


That Boy Is A Monster

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Blood and Gore, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, Inspired by iZombie (TV), Keith Tries to Become a Cryptid Hunter, Lance is a Zombie, Lance just hates that he's a zombie, M/M, Murder, Mutual Pining, References to Depression, Self-Doubt, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Keith, lance is a pizza boy, touch-starved lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 05:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 58,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: Keith recognized that face in an instant. The pale lips, messy unkempt hair despite it being considerably shorter than Keith’s, and those bright blue unblinking eyes staring back at him.Lance McClain.Monster boy.





	That Boy Is A Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is one of my fics for the klance reverse bang and I couldn't be happier with how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed working on it!
> 
> Kudos to my artist or coming up with the story idea and drawing all the beautiful art to go along with it:  
> https://belmeran.tumblr.com/post/173533236093
> 
> And a big thank-you to my beta reader for taking care of all my 4am writing mistakes: https://monxdragon.tumblr.com/

“This is so fake.” Keith grumbled, not for the first time in the past hour and a half they’d been watching through this movie. He was just begging for it to be over at this point, he wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. Between the gore and the overdone screaming every few minutes, he was about ready to head home early.

“Come on, Keith, you love it.” Pidge countered, from where she was sprawled out over the couch. This was one of the rare weeks where they’d decided to gather at Matt’s apartment to watch movies. It was also one of the rare weeks where Matt’s apartment was clean enough to gather in.

“You’re always talking about monsters and cryptids.” Shiro pointed out, taking a sip of his drink. “This should be right up your alley.”

Keith tilted his head back, staring toward the ceiling in exasperation. It was like his friends didn’t know him at all sometimes. The only reason cryptids appealed to him was because he liked the mystery of it, the theorizing and adventure that went into trying to prove their existence. This zombie movie was just people eating other people, no thought necessary to process.

“Yeah, Keith, this is like our thing. What do you have against zombies anyway?”

“Would you give it up already? Zombies aren’t real. We’d know by now if they were, it’s not like they can hide it.” Keith got to his feet, ready to continue. The answering groans from the others in the room made it clear no one was looking forward to his tangent. “Zombies are just a cheap sell-out movie tactic. They have got to have access to the budget for better writers and effects, so why did they just take the cheap and easy gore everywhere route?”

“It’s a horror film, they’re not exactly known for their intriguing plots and-”

“Slasher film.” Keith corrected, eyes locking with Pidge’s in a glaring contest. “This isn’t horrifying, unless you’re talking about it in the cinematic sense.”

“Okay, Mr. Opinions.” Pidge rolled her eyes, pointing toward the cowering heap on the floor between them. “Matt seems to disagree.”

“Shut-up.” Matt whined, lifting his head so he could peer out from the blankets he was wrapped in. He looked pitifully around the room, finding no sympathy. “Why can’t we ever pick out a _comedy_ to watch together?”

“‘Cause the system is rigged and Pidge somehow always wins.”

“It’s not _rigged_ , this win was simply the luck of the draw,” Pidge argued, looking toward the movies she’d picked out where they rested on the coffee table. “…just like the last twenty-seven wins.”

“Can you at least pick out something _good_ next time?” Keith complained loudly, to the point that all three pairs of eyes looked toward him. It was in that moment that he realized maybe he was being a little bit too difficult to get along with. Clearly they were all enjoying the movie to some extent, who was he to ruin their fun? “You know what, I think I might head out early.”

“Keith, is it really that bad? We can watch something else.”

“Nah, it’s not the shitty movie.” Keith laughed, running his hand through his hair, before thinking twice and pulling it up into a ponytail. “It’s just been a long day, I have a lot of assignments due soon. I’m ready to pass out.”

“I’m not ready to leave yet.” Shiro pointed out, though he was already digging the house keys out of his back pocket and holding them out to Keith. Keith took them, spinning the key ring around on his finger, fidgeting nervously.

“I’ll walk home.” Keith said, smiling his best convincing smile. He wasn’t at all surprised as a deep frown swept across his older brother’s face. Keith huffed. “I’ll be fine, Shiro, I looked after myself for months while you were away.”

It wasn’t a card that Keith liked to pull often. It still felt so raw, like Shiro had only gotten back yesterday when in reality a month had passed since Shiro came back to him. Being a member of the Garrison led Shiro down many interesting paths, the last of which being into some top secret mission overseas that even Keith wasn’t allowed to know a thing about. Shiro had been gone for a year and he’d come back on an honorable discharge, with an unsettling white streak in his hair caused by stress and a prosthetic arm in place of the one that had held Keith so many times.

Before Shiro had left, he’d been the overbearing older brother type. He still was, of course, even being a soldier couldn’t beat that out of him, but in his absence Keith had learned to look out for himself. He’d managed the bills on his own, kept the house clean, and he’d walked to and from Matt’s apartment countless times without supervision. He was an adult, he could handle himself. Hell, Keith was an _adopted_ sibling, he’d looked after himself long before Shiro had come along.

It was just, well, Keith didn’t want to give the impression that he didn’t _like_ being taken care of. He’d done the whole lone wolf schtick, ran it into the ground really, so this whole having a family and having people to rely on… it was nice. No one had ever worried about him before when he’d stayed out too late or taken the road less traveled. Shiro being gone for months on that mission had only made it blatantly clear that for how much time he’d spent that way… Keith didn’t _like_ being alone.

“It’s not that late, you’ll probably even avoid the drunken crowds around the bars tonight.” Matt said, clearly not picking up on the tension at all. Keith laughed humorlessly, staring toward Shiro with wide eyes, silently pleading him to let this go.

“Fine.” Shiro caved, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips. “Stick to the main roads, you know this area isn’t very safe anymore. Keep your phone on, call me if you need me to come pick you up for any reason at all.”

“Yes, Sir.” Keith snickered, mock-saluting. Shiro groaned. Keith only laughed harder in response, even as he turned away and started toward the door. “Tonight was fun, thanks for inviting me.”

“Will we be able to pry you out of your introvert cave for next week?” Pidge shouted after him, her tone teasing even though Keith knew for a fact it was a genuine question. Toward the end of Shiro’s absence, Keith had reverted into himself a little bit, sick with worry as his brother’s frequent letters had stopped piling up in his mailbox. Keith wasn’t a particularly outgoing guy to begin with, but it got to the point that he didn’t even leave the house to attend their weekly movie nights.

“Maybe, if you pick a better movie.” Keith teased, toeing into his shoes as he looked back at them. Pidge was gaping at him, eyes wide and jaw slack. Keith stuck his tongue out between his teeth, grinning despite himself.

“Hey! You little-” Keith ducked through the front door before she could finish speaking, or _worse_ ; throw something hard at him.

He jingled the keys in his pocket, whistling a quiet tune to himself as he started down the road in the direction of the place he called home. It was a nice place, something Shiro’s hefty Garrison cheques had secured for them. It was normally the place they hosted movie nights, but they’d decided to switch it up tonight.

He’d traveled home from late nights at Matt and Pidge’s enough times that he knew the path like the back of his hand, he could probably follow it in pitch black and get himself back home. It was something familiar to him. He’d even found shortcuts and tricks to get home faster, to avoid the drunks on main street if it was particularly late.

And while it wasn’t quite that late yet, Keith was more used to the shortcut than anything else, so he found himself crossing the street and darting through an alley. There had been a lot of animal attacks within the past few weeks, which was what Shiro had been referencing earlier about this neighborhood no longer being safe. Luckily, Keith wasn’t a total idiot, so he was giving any wooded areas a wide berth and sticking solely to highly populated places.

All he had to do was look up and he’d see lights on in the buildings on either side of the alley. One scream and fifteen people would be calling the cops in an instant. That’s assuming a dangerous animal would even show up here, which was a near impossible chance in itself.

The point was, Keith wasn’t doing anything reckless. Keith had been reckless before, he’d traveled double the speed limit and he’d punched men three times his size when they looked at him the wrong way. But on this particular night, Keith was abiding by the rules. Keith wanted to make it home safe. For Shiro.

Needless to say, of course it was the one time Keith _wasn’t_ looking for trouble that it found him.

When he turned the corner only to see movement a few feet in front of him, Keith froze. It was like a tangible weight had settled on his shoulders, like the coldest ice had swept through his veins, he couldn’t move a single muscle. Even as he registered what he was looking at and panic rose high in his chest, he didn’t even dare to draw a breath.

There, on the ground in front of him, sat a man hunched over another body. For the first ten seconds or so, it was a little hit or miss telling what that man was doing, but Keith knew it couldn’t have been anything good if it had to be done in a back alley like this. There was a significant lack of struggle from the body splayed across the floor of the alley, and the longer Keith stared on in shock, the more apparent the blood pooling through the stone walkway became.

Keith felt himself getting lightheaded from going so long without drawing a breath, so in the spirit of not passing out in front of this _actual murderer_ , Keith inhaled deeply just in time. Of course, it was a little ragged and desperate after going so long without, so it ended up being more of a gasp. An audible gasp.

The stranger’s head whipped upward, a low growl-like noise grumbling out of his throat. Keith was rooted to the spot, even more-so now that his eyes were locked with that of the man in front of him. If you could even call him a man, he certainly looked more like a monster.

Bright crimson inhuman eyes stared back at him, upper lip pulled back in an animal-like snarl, showcasing the teeth that might have been white underneath all the blood. God, there was so much of the stuff, dripping down the man’s face and soaking through the front of his shirt. Keith stared wide-eyed and horrified, blunt nails digging into his palms, fight or flight instincts screaming at him to do something already.

His gaze fell to the monster’s hands, nausea bubbling up in his stomach upon seeing the severed arm held there. Bite marks lined the pale skin.

“What the hell?” Keith croaked, far past the point of being embarrassed about the pitchiness of his voice. He stumbled backwards, gloved hands scrambling across the bricks in a desperate effort to put space between them.

Just like that, it was like a switch had been flicked. The animal that’d been growling and glaring at him moments before, like a hunter on the prowl, was suddenly quiet and retreating in the opposite direction. Like a kicked puppy rather than the ravenous wolf from before.

“Oh my god.” The man gasped, hands coming up to wipe desperately at his own face, practically clawing at himself in the effort to get the built-up blood off of his chin. Despite Keith’s voice being the thing to break him out of his trance, he paid absolutely no attention to Keith’s presence. Instead his eyes, now a striking blue rather than the red from before, were completely focused on the heaped body between them. “Oh my fucking god.”

Keith fumbled his hand into his pocket, wrenching his phone out and immediately dialing his first emergency contact. He was having difficulty breathing around the lump in his throat and the heavy smell of bloodshed in the air.

“Come on, Shiro, pick up.” Keith whispered urgently, uncertain when the stranger’s trance would break again and he’d go back to the monster from before. As it was he was just sitting there, staring at the person he’d just killed and eaten, face completely void of emotion.

Keith accidentally knocked the speakerphone button, the loud ringing filling the alleyway. The stranger’s head jerked upright, eyes locking with Keith’s for the first time since they’d turned to blue. Keith blinked warily, uncertain whether he was relieved to see how lucid the other person looked all of the sudden.

“Who are you calling?” The man asked, shakily getting to his feet. Keith flinched, recoiling backward in horror. The stranger paused, looking down at himself and grimacing at the blood on his clothing and skin, the body at his feet. He curled in on himself, wrapping his jacket tighter around his frame to hide the mess.

He didn’t meet Keith’s gaze again, even as he started to speak. “I’m sorry. I am _so_ sorry. Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“W-What?” Keith stuttered out, furrowing his eyebrows deeply together. This disgusting person was attempting to bargain with him? To try and cover up what he’d done?

Without the animal-like body language and freaky monster eyes, the boy in front of him wasn’t nearly as threatening. He was taller than Keith, but he was lanky, all limbs and no muscle. Keith could take him, probably. If he had to.

Keith stepped closer, jabbing his fingers into the numbers on his screen an holding it up. He showcased the number he’d already typed in. “I have to tell the authorities. That person probably has a family, you sicko!”

“I know that, but don’t tell them about _me_!” The stranger shouted, desperation leaching into the words, his legs wobbling beneath him like they might give out. Come to think of it, he did look genuinely remorseful, tears building in his eyes and entire body quivering like a leaf in the wind. Keith’s finger hovered over the call button, feeling entirely mixed up.

The stranger let out a quiet sob, burying his face in his hands. “ _Please_.”

Before Keith could even attempt to sort himself out or get anything in the form of answers, the man was turning and running in the opposite direction. And damn, could he run, he was out of sight within seconds. Keith stood alone in the alleyway, a body at his feet and his heart racing dangerously in his chest. He swallowed harshly, turning away and closing his eyes tight.

He jammed his thumb into the call button.

“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?” The voice on the other end of the call wasted no time at all getting to the point after picking up. Keith bit his lip, finding himself hesitating. He silently cursed himself for even considering lying to the authorities. They needed all the information they could get to get that thing behind bars.

But they had no idea what they were dealing with and it wasn’t like Keith could rightly say he’d just encountered some kind of monster eating a person in an alley. No one would believe him.

Keith tipped his head back, staring up at the night sky. He curled his hand tighter around the cellphone, choking up around his words.

“I think... there’s been some kind of animal attack in an alleyway off of 33rd.” Keith said, turning the corner so he wouldn’t have to be so near to the body any longer. He stared down at the ground, scowling. “There’s a body. Deceased.”

After working out the information that he knew, Keith was asked to stay at the scene until help arrived. It was one of those things that he would have shrugged out of if there was any way he could, but instead he stayed put where he was. Shiro better not get home before him. He didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened tonight.

He’d already made up his mind.

And when he looked down at the ground again to catch the glint of white against the blackened pathway, he kneeled to pick it up. He flipped the small name tag over in his hand, tracing his pointer finger over the name printed on it. _Lance_.

Yes, Keith had made up his mind. He couldn’t trust the authorities to figure this one out. This was all on him now, he had to get to the bottom of it when no one else could.

His own personal cryptid hunt, complete with theorizing and adventure.

And danger.

\--

Lance stumbled into his apartment building in a distressed hurry, taking the back stairs rather than the elevator in the front. He scaled them as quickly as possible, breath heaving out of his lungs in frantic huffs as he took the steps two at a time. He’d scrubbed his face and shirt in a river on his way back, but still his skin crawled like it was covered in the thick layer of blood.

God, it was still under his nails, he could _feel_ it.

Lance unlocked his door and stumbled inside as quickly as possible, slamming it shut and locking it behind him. He leaned back against the wooden paneling, sliding down until he was sitting on his welcome mat, tears falling heavily down his face. He sobbed brokenly, hugging his knees to his chest and trying his best to keep from hyperventilating.

“I’m an idiot.” He whispered frantically, fingers running through his hair and tugging desperately at the matted strands. Glancing across the room, his reflection greeted him in the windows. He scowled at himself, at how small and vulnerable he dared to look after what he’d done tonight.

Lance got to his feet, glaring at the boy staring back at him in the glass. Crossing the room, he watched as his eyes shifted from their usual blue to a bloody muddled red, unnatural. The anger he felt toward himself was so tangible it triggered the reaction.

He turned away, rubbing his hands over his face. He kicked the foot of his couch. “Idiot!”

“Keep it down, some people are trying to sleep tonight!” It was his neighbor on the floor above him. A terrible, terrible fleeting thought crossed Lance’s mind upon hearing that ignorant, hateful tone.

 _Why couldn’t I have eaten_ _him? Torn him limb-from-limb and left him to rot in an alley? What good did he bring to society?_

Lance hated himself for even thinking it, but he wasn’t exactly in a prime state of mind right now. He wasn’t thinking like he normally would, he was thinking like someone who had just murdered one of their best co-workers right behind the pizza shop they worked at together. He was thinking like someone sick with regret and numb with acceptance all at the same time. This was what he was now. A monster.

This would be his life for as long as he lived as this gross impersonation of the person he used to be. It would start with one co-worker eating incident, and it’d only get worse. He would hurt, kill, or maim everyone he loved if he didn’t do something to stop himself soon. God forbid, maybe he’d slip up and turn one of them into a monster just like him.

Lance thought of his siblings back home, his mother’s kind smile, the eager way his nieces and nephews climbed over him whenever they came to visit. All it would take would be one slip of the hand, one nail grazing just too sharp against their skin, and then they’d be like him. They’d be a monster, too.

Lance couldn’t make it to the toilet bowl fast enough, bile rising in his throat at the thought.

Maybe it’d be a good thing if that boy who had caught him tonight turned him in. Lance wouldn’t blame him really, it would be the right thing to do. Lance was a danger, he wasn’t a person anymore, he didn’t have the right to ask for things like mercy or forgiveness. Lance almost hoped that that stranger told the authorities everything. It’d be for the greater good.

After spending a good hour sprawled out across the cold tiles of his bathroom floor, Lance managed to peel himself off of it and haul his sorry ass into the shower. He sat down on the floor of his tub, watching as the water swirled red with the mess of blood he’d failed to get off of himself in the river.

“Why did I go so long without eating?” He whispered, cursing himself for thinking he’d make it even an hour more when he could feel that telltale insistent rumble in his stomach.

Ever since he’d turned into this disgusting being, his stomach had taken on a mind of its own. When he got hungry, really hungry, there was only one thing that could sate him. Of course, Lance hated it, he despised what he was and he fought it every step of the way. He didn’t want to eat other people, even if most times he did his best to find freshly buried bodies that nobody would miss. So he put it off, he pushed his limits, he told himself he wasn’t hungry until he got so damned hungry that he wasn’t anything else anymore.

That’s when he got like that, red-eyes and claws and teeth. That’s when he actually looked as dead as he was inside. When he let himself go too far, the hunger consumed him and turned him into something else entirely.

His shower was brief and anticlimactic, all things considered. Nothing could really be considered climactic following the murdering of one of your close acquaintances. Lance felt a little bit numb if he was being honest, and he hated himself for it, for not feeling more. There was just this feeling of resignation in the air.

He was a monster now, even if sometimes he could fool people by not looking the part, it didn’t change what he was.

He hadn’t always been like this, in fact, it’d only been a few short months since his entire life fell apart all because of one cruel night. It was all because of a boy. Of course it was a boy, everyone had always told Lance that his heart was too big and he fell too hard and he was bound to get himself into trouble. It was a boy that convinced him to go to that party in the part of town Lance never went to. It was a boy that lost him in the crowds and left Lance alone with scary people he didn’t know. It was a boy that Lance called out for as bodies started dropping left and right, his own included at the end of things.

He wasn’t dead, not technically, or maybe he was… in all honesty, Lance wasn’t sure how this all worked yet. His heart was still beating, pumping blood through his veins that wasn’t his as far as he could tell. He could still die, so could he really be considered undead? God, he had so many questions and no one to ask them to. He was utterly alone in this, no one he knew could know, and anyone who already knew he didn’t want to know.

He’d met the other zombies after he’d turned, they’d begged him to join their ranks and help them turn more innocent people. Lance had refused, claiming he wasn’t like them, that he was a better person. He wasn’t sure that he believed it now, as he threw out the ripped and stained shirt he’d been wearing tonight. He made a mental note to request a new uniform.

Lance collapsed onto the couch, prepared to watch lame television until the early hours of the morning again. At least there was that, Lance didn’t need to sleep anymore, only when he was starting to get hungry and his body wasn’t quite so unnaturally strong from stolen energy. He had hours and hours to spare, and he ended up using them all the same way, reflecting back on all the terrible things he’d done since the night he’d changed into this.

An hour or so later and a knock sounded at Lance’s door. He had no intention of answering, fear rising in him that the only person coming over this late at night would have to be the authorities. Then he heard the key turning in the lock and tentatively started to settle back into the cushions.

He’d only ever given a key to one other person.

“Lance? You home yet?”

“Hunk?” Lance called quietly, watching as the door swung open. Hunk bustled into the apartment, carrying grocery bags in both hands and humming quietly. He noticed Lance on the couch almost immediately and smiled over at him.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Hunk assured him, closing the door behind himself. Lance sat up, blanket falling around his shoulders loosely. His eyes were wide and imploring, wondering what Hunk was doing here. Hunk caught his gaze, sighing softly. “You didn’t look so good today when you took over for your shift, I figured I’d drop you off a care package and check up on you to make sure you made it home safe.”

“Oh.” Lance laughed hollowly, incapable of ignoring the irony in that sentiment. Hunk was worried that he’d made it home safe while Lance was brutally murdering their mutual friends on the trip. “Thanks.”

Considering they’d been friends since grade school, Hunk knew a thing or two about Lance. In fact, they oftentimes joked that Hunk knew Lance better than he knew himself. So, you would think, by now Lance would have given up on trying to lie to the big guy.

“Lance? What’s wrong?” Hunk asked, genuine worry lacing his words. Lance cringed inwardly, bringing the blanket back up over his head and sinking down into the cushions. He felt it when Hunk settled next to him not even ten seconds later, groceries discarded without a care.

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You can talk about anything with me, you know that.” Hunk assured him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Blanket still covering his face, Lance was a little bit more lenient than he’d normally be with himself, breaking down into tears in no time at all. Hunk hushed him gently, hugging him tighter with a series of quiet reassurances.

Eventually, Lance cried himself out against Hunk’s shoulder. He pulled the blanket back over himself, hands buried in his lap and not daring to hug Hunk back no matter how badly he wanted to. All it’d taken to turn him was a scratch, Lance couldn’t risk that for anyone else.

They sat in silence, huddled into each other, until eventually Hunk carefully spoke up. “Was it a girl or a boy?”

“Yeah.” Lance whispered, his own voice sounding unfamiliar in his ears even as he expertly evaded the question. Hunk rolled his eyes.

“Hey, whoever it was, they have no idea what they’re missing out on.” Hunk was attempting to cheer him up, so Lance did his best to smile through the pain and the guilt eating away at him, but it wasn’t easy. “I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but it’s not. You’re gonna get through this.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Lance muttered under his breath, digging his nails into his own palms.

“You’re so dramatic.” Hunk snorted, voice full of fondness. Lance could remember so many times before when they’d been in this exact same position, Lance crying over the latest person to steal his heart, insisting he’d never get over it. This felt like a mockery of those innocent moments. He wasn’t mourning the loss of a relationship this time, he was mourning the death of himself and a friend alike. He just couldn’t say as much.

Hunk held him for a while longer before the clock started to read a later hour. He got to his feet then, tossing a grocery bag toward Lance on the couch. “Eat some chocolate and I’ll clean this place up.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Lance muttered, opening the bag to reveal some of his favorite foods, no doubt picked out specifically to make him feel better. Food didn’t hold quite the same value to him that it used to now that his taste buds were all messed up, but he still planned on eating every bite of it for sentimental purposes.

Hunk made quick work of tidying the place up, despite the mess having taken weeks to accumulate to that point. Lance didn’t have much time for cleaning lately, he didn’t consider it necessary. He was living on borrowed time, the authorities would find him eventually and put him down. He’d seen them do it the night he’d gotten turned. He’d escaped unscathed, but that was before he knew what he was.

If he had only known, he might have stayed there and allowed them to do away with him. It would have been better that way.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you these past few months. You never used to let your place get messy like this. You were always so obsessed with keeping everything spotless, this isn’t like you.” Hunk was mostly talking to himself, filling the silence in the apartment as he scrubbed the dishes and counters alike. Lance nodded along, sat on the couch and unable to focus on anything else.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Lance. You have nothing to apologize for.” Hunk assured him hurriedly, like he’d only just realized Lance was actually listening. Before, Lance wasn’t always the type to listen, he got distracted easily and his thoughts went off the rails. Now his head just felt empty, like a hospital after visiting hours were over, he could hear every noise echoing off of the walls.

Hunk stood behind the couch, ruffling up Lance’s hair. Lance leaned into the touch, fingers woven tightly together in his lap so he wouldn’t feel tempted to touch back. It was a unique kind of torture, being such a physically affectionate person who had to constantly hold himself back from expressing it. Everything about Lance’s life had been flipped. “I’m just worried about you. I want to help somehow.”

“I don’t think you can.”

“Have you been talking to your family recently?” Hunk asked, in that bright voice that said he’d picked up on the downward spiral the conversation had fallen into again, and was now attempting to right that. At any other time, the topic of his family would have Lance lighting up. He always had stories to relay, inside jokes to share, thoughts and opinions on the people he’d grown up with.

They’d sobbed like babies when Lance moved away from home to attend university in the big city, even though Hunk was going to the same place and they’d have each other. Lance had cried too, until he was red-faced and snotty-nosed the whole plane ride there. They talked every single night, religiously, no matter how busy Lance got with school.

Or, at least, they used to.

Lance couldn’t bring himself to call after he’d realized what had happened to him. He didn’t think it was fair to them, to keep talking to the people who loved him like he wasn’t a threat to every single one of them now. Who was he to sit there and pretend to be the same person they’d always known? Everything about him had changed. They should have been mourning him, not bonding with the corpse that was leftover.

Hunk frowned deeply, carefully brushing the stray tear from Lance’s cheek. “They miss you, you know.”

“I know.” Lance managed, turning away to stare to the other side of the room.

“They keep messaging me, asking about how you’ve been.” Hunk continued carefully, clearly trying to gauge Lance’s reaction. It wasn’t like Lance could blame him, this was unlike anything Lance had ever gone through. No matter what, Lance had _never_ shut his family out. “Going from talking to them every night to once a month if they’re lucky… that’s really not like you.”

“Hunk, I _can’t_.”

“I know.” Hunk said hurriedly, patting him on the shoulder. A beat of silence, and _then_ ; “Will you at least go to a doctor? Try to get help from someone who might understand better than I do?”

Lance’s smile was thin and forced, uncomfortable. He couldn’t go to a doctor in his current state, they’d surely notice something was wrong with him. One glance at his clammy appearance and they’d know, they’d take care of him just like that. And despite deserving it, Lance was still terrified of death. He wasn’t ready to go, not yet.

“I’ll, uh, think about it.” Lance lied. Lance lied despite knowing that Hunk would be able to tell, that it’d hurt the both of them. He’d been ruining relationships left and right lately, what was one more? Each burnt bridge would only make it easier when he finally convinced himself to give himself in.

“That’s a start, I guess.” Hunk whispered, trying and failing to look on the bright side of things. Lance winced, regretting his actions already.

“So, how’s school going? That girl giving you anymore trouble?” Lance started, trying to make some casual conversation again. Despite going to the same university, he shared hardly any classes with Hunk, their majors were completely different. They often told each other stories, but they hadn’t been telling them as often lately. Probably because Lance had been skipping so often.

“Shay?” Hunk asked, confusion tracing his features. “God, no, she’s wonderful.”

“Not your girlfriend, the other one.” Hunk blinked dumbly. Lance sighed. “The one you’re doing your term project with. The highschool student that was so smart she’s taking college classes at the same time.”

“Pidge?”  Hunk asked, realization dawning on his face. Lance breathed a sigh of relief, knowing from that lit-up look alone that Hunk had some things to say on this topic. “She’s not so bad, we just got off on the wrong foot.”

“You really hated her at first.” Lance reminded him knowingly, but he was smiling. A genuine smile. He enjoyed spending time with his friends, even if he couldn’t trust himself to do it as much anymore.

“She tried to convince me that there’s scientific proof that aliens are real.” Hunk explained, nodding his head.

“Oh man, that must have driven you up the wall. You hate that supernatural sh-”

“Well, aliens wouldn’t really be supernatural. Assuming they’re naturally developed lifeforms from another planet, they’d-” Hunk cut himself off, noticing the glare Lance was shooting in his direction for interrupting. Hunk shrugged sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, anyway, she convinced me.”

“What?” Lance gasped, jaw dropping.

Again, Lance had known Hunk most of his life. They’d grown up side-by-side, been there for each other through all of the highs and lows. When Lance was a pre-teen he’d gone through a bit of a phase with outer space. And by that, he meant that he still had a room and attic filled with space-related paraphernalia and his room in the apartment still had a NASA poster up on the wall.

And during all the years Lance had rattled on about the topic, Hunk had been adamant about where he stood on the alien subject. They weren’t real. They were never gonna be real.

This Pidge person had managed to change his mind in just a few short weeks of knowing him? Unfair.

“I think aliens are real.” Hunk confirmed, reaching out to carefully push Lance’s jaw up and close his mouth. “She gave me too much solid evidence for me to ignore.”

“I gave you solid evidence!” Lance snapped, still feeling cheated. He wasn’t even completely dead yet and already somebody was jonesing for his spot as Hunk’s best friend? No way, no how, he’d have to stick around just to ward them off.

“She’s smart, she just has different priorities than I do.” Hunk laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I still like you way more than her.”

“Yeah, you’d better.” Lance grumbled, crossing his arms. Hunk tipped his head back, chuckling wistfully to himself as if he was recalling something funny. He nudged Lance’s foot with his own.

“She’s trying to prove the existence of zombies right now.”

“W-What?” Lance choked on his own spit, hacking obnoxiously to try and even out his breathing. Surely there was no way Hunk had just said what Lance thought he said. Someone was trying to prove the existence of zombies?

“Yeah.” Hunk continued, like Lance’s completely dramatic reaction was just the usual. “That weird video that went viral a couple months back of that drugged-out crazy eating another guy’s face? The sudden push for monthly health check-ups because of flu season? The rise in murder victims and deadly animal attacks locally? I don’t know, Pidge thinks it’s all some kind of grand scheme and that zombies are at the center of it all.”

“Huh.” Lance tried, trying to be extra careful not to give himself away. He looked down at his lap, eyes glued to where his trimmed-short nails rested against the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

“Like I said, different priorities. I don’t know how right she is about that theory, so I woudn’t worry or anything. I doubt we’re on the verge of apocalyptic times yet.” Hunk joked, looking over at Lance with a grin. The smile fell quickly, seeing the dazed look on Lance’s face and the full bag still settled between them on the couch. “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

“Okay, okay, geesh. You don’t have to spoon feed me, I can handle it.” Lance blurted hurriedly, jumping at the chance to distract himself from what he’d just learned.

\--

When it came to hunting for information in the modern age, the internet seemed to be the go-to place for all of your needs. Keith knew his fair share, but he was no genius. However, he just happened to know one. The things Pidge was capable of with a computer were downright scary, but Keith was going to use it to his advantage this time.

They were in the university library, a place that Pidge frequented but Keith generally tended to avoid. He wasn’t fond of all the rules that accompanied being there. He’d much rather read his books or do his work at home, but Pidge liked the environment. Keith was willing to bet she only liked it so much because people constantly approached her with money offers to do their homework.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” Pidge said, not even glancing up from the laptop in front of her. Keith nodded, leaning back in his chair, propping his feet up on the library table. “You want me to find this Lance guy you met in a grocery store and talked to for five minutes because you think he might be your soulmate?”

In hindsight, it hadn’t been Keith’s strongest lie. He wasn’t a romantic, he’d never been in a long-term relationship, and he’d certainly never used the term “soulmate” with any semblance of seriousness, but he went with his first impulse when it came to lies. Sue him for still being a little bit scatterbrained after walking in on a person _eating another person_.

God, the paperwork he’d had to fill-out with the authorities that night had been unreal. His hand still cramped just thinking about it and that was two days ago. His luck wasn’t all bad though, Shiro had ended up staying the night at Matt’s that night. Keith made it back home without causing any alarm. No one had any idea how long his trip back had taken, or why.

“You don’t understand, Pidge, you had to _be there_.” Keith drawled out dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes like some sort of distressed damsel. He swooned aloud, earning an elbow to the gut via Pidge. Okay, so his act wasn’t believable, he could take a hint. Might as well take the piss if Pidge already knew he was lying.

Keith sat up, batting his eyelashes in what he hoped was a forlorn manner. “When he handed me that bag of hot cheetos, it felt like my heart was the most fiery thing in his hands.”

“Fuck off, Keith, I can tell when you’re lying and you know I hate being left in the dark.”

“Fine.” Keith huffed, trying to come up with another lie on the spot. He’d never been a particularly good liar. “I don’t think we’re soulmates, but we hooked up and I think I might be pregnant. I need to track him down and let him know.”

“I’m going to kill you.” Pidge grit out between her teeth, nails tapping irritably against her laptop. Keith stared back at her, daring her to try. “Tell me why you want to find this guy and I’ll help you. Until then, you can just leave me alone to-”

“Fifty bucks.” Keith deadpanned, having given up on his acting skills.

“That’s a lot of money for a broke college student to throw around.” Pidge sing-songed, curiosity lacing the words even as she pulled up one of the confusing programs Keith had seen her use for hacking before. He lit up, eager to get his way.

Pidge froze, eyes trailing in his direction, a smirk on her lips. “You sure you don’t really think this guy is your soulmate? I can’t imagine anything else that’d make you obsess like this.”

“Trust me, the experience I shared with this guy was beyond imagination.”

“Ew?” Pidge tried, clearly misinterpreting what Keith’s words meant. In all fairness, Keith couldn’t blame her. No one could guess in a million years what he was actually talking about. “I don’t wanna know.”

“I don’t wanna tell.”

“It’s not easy to search an entire city for one individual with only their first name to go by. Do you have any other information? A description of his appearance?”

“I didn’t really get a good look at him.” Keith said, telling the truth for once. Between the darkness and the blood covering most of the man’s face, Keith had hardly any idea what Lance really looked like. He knew his eyes though, the softest blue he’d ever seen or the fiercest red to contrast. Keith would know his Lance when he saw him, he was sure of that.

Pidge seemed to think he was lying again. She was looking at him very weirdly.

“How drunk were you when you slept with this guy? You don’t remember what he looks like _at all_?”

“You have a first name, that’s enough.” Keith said gruffly, rising from his chair. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, looking toward the door. “I don’t care how long it takes.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Pidge sighed, pushing her hair back from her face. “Don’t tell Matt or Shiro about this, you know they hate it when I do illegal stuff.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“I’m still a minor, I’d get off easy.” Pidge defended herself with an undignified huff, like she expected better from Keith than to shame her extracurricular activities. “That’s assuming they even caught me, I’m good at covering my tracks.”

“Whatever.” Keith muttered, starting toward the door. “Let me know if you figure anything out.”

\--

Lance pressed his glasses higher up on the bridge of the nose, having been far too stressed out to bother putting contacts in today. It’d been two days. Two excruciating days of feigning oblivion as the news came out that their co-worker had died in a terrible way. Two days of comforting Hunk and holding Allura as she cried in the staff quarters. Two days of weighing the options on how to make sure he never did something awful like this again.

He was starting to realize now that he didn’t have very many options at all.

It all felt a little trivial, sitting in the same library corner he’d found himself in so many times before. He was studying for a test, a big one, something that would have had him sick with anxiety just a few short months ago. Now it just seemed like a waste of time. What big future was he waiting on now?

Hunk had showed up to bring him lunch, sneaking it into the library like the good friend he was. Lance took a nibble of the sandwich every few minutes, nothing like the wolfish appetite he used to have for food whenever Hunk offered it. Luckily, Hunk interpreted as him being too stressed and sad to have an appetite, because that’d happened once or twice before.

Hunk was playing on his phone next to Lance, the both of them basking in the amicable silence between them as Lance worked.

Eventually, it got to the point that Lance couldn’t take himself seriously any longer. He pushed his book out from in front of him, sighing dramatically and slouching down in his seat. He waited as patiently as he could, and it didn’t take Hunk long to finish his game and turn his attention to Lance’s pouting form.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here? You look like you could use something to take your mind off of everything going on right now.”

“What did you have in mind?” Lance asked, smiling softly.

“Arcade, maybe?”

“Too many people.”

“Uh, I guess we could go for a swim maybe? There’s a river not far from here, we wouldn’t have to go to a public pool if you didn’t want to.”

“No, no river.” Lance insisted, urgency growing in his voice. He could still vividly remember washing the blood off of himself in that river.

Hunk was staring at him a little weird, so Lance hurried to make a suggestion of his own. “We could drive the extra twenty minutes to go to the beach?”

“Okay.” Hunk grinned, seemingly relieved that they’d reached a conclusion. As Lance moved to stand, Hunk settled a hand on his shoulder and kept him in his seat. “Hey. I know you were closer to Nyma than I was, but I know what you’re going through right now. If you need to talk about how you’re feeling, I’m your guy.”

Lance frowned, having known this was coming. Hunk had already said many similar things over the course of the past two days since the death had been announced, but this was different. This wasn’t a precautionary promise, it was Hunk calling Lance out on how terribly he was coping. Lance had to learn to act better if he expected to ever hide what was going on with him.

“You’re always my guy.” Lance said, thumb tracing over the tabletop. He clenched his fingers on the edge, curling his hands into fists. It was so difficult to resist the urge to touch people. It’d always come so naturally to him, friendly gestures and casual affection. Now he felt like he was going to be sick at the mere thought of touching another person, the risk was so high.

Still, he craved it. He missed it like nothing else. He could lose food, sleep, and his future. What he couldn’t stand to lose was the simply comfort of another person’s warmth in the present.

“Let’s go.” Hunk squeezed his shoulder again, and this time Lance stood with him. They gathered their things and quickly headed toward the library exit, studying long forgotten in favor of sand and warm sun on the beach. If Lance was lucky, perhaps he’d get a tan, his skin was starting to look pasty and void of life. It wasn’t a good look on someone who’d spent their entire life with a sun-kissed tan from being on the beaches in Cuba so often.

As they were leaving, Lance felt the peculiar sensation of a pair of eyes on him. Paranoia on high ever since being caught by that strange boy while feeding the other night, Lance turned his head. The person staring at him didn’t look like a threat. She was short, light hair cut short into a choppy pixie cut look. She grinned at Lance when they made eye contact and he stumbled closer to Hunk’s side.

“Hunk!” The girl called, a sense of familiarity in her tone. Lance smacked his face into Hunk’s shoulder when his friend abruptly stopped. He took a step back, watching as Hunk turned to the girl and lit up into a wide grin. Lance felt jealousy rearing its ugly head already.

He’d always been a jealous person, there was no denying that. He liked to have attention, as often and as much as he could get, especially from the people he cared about. He’d always feared things like his friends getting new friends and leaving him behind, but now it was worse. It was worse because Lance couldn’t look at it without thinking about what the picture would look like if he really wasn’t in it. If he’d really died that night at the party.

“Pidge, what are you doing here?” Hunk laughed, marching up to the girl. Lance put two and two together quickly after that, eyes raking over the stranger again now that he had a name and some stories to associate with her. So this was the infamous Pidge that Hunk was doing his project with.

The girl that could convince Hunk aliens were real somehow.

The girl that was convinced zombies existed.

Lance shivered despite himself.

“Oh, you know, using my hacker skills to go on a cyber manhunt for my friend.” Pidge explained, gesturing to the complicated looking page they had open on their computer. Lance looked at it for a moment, before dubbing it unimportant to the conversation and looking back between the two of them.

“Which friend? That sounds like a Keith thing.” Hunk laughed, hearty and big. Lance found himself frowning, trying desperately to remember the last time he’d made Hunk laugh like that. When was the last time he’d made Hunk laugh at all? It always used to be constant smiles and giggles while they were together, but lately Lance just didn’t have it in him.

It didn’t help that Hunk sounded so damn sure of himself, like he knew Pidge well enough to know all of her friends by extension. How many potential replacements were lined-up for the moment Lance left the picture?

“Oh, absolutely, no one else would dare.” Pidge agreed, nodding. “You just missed him actually.”

“Darn. When are we going to set something up so I can actually meet all of your friends?”

“Hm… how about this weekend? Saturday?” The suggestion seemed a little impulsive and off-handed in Lance’s opinion, but he was starting to get that vibe about Pidge. Despite being described as a genius, she didn’t really seem the type to think things through. Of course she was capable of it if she wanted to, but she seemed more the type to go with the flow.

“I can do that.” Hunk said suddenly, looking down at his phone. Lance caught a glimpse of the calendar he’d opened up to check his schedule and frowned. There was something that never got easier about having two people make plans in front of you and exclude you from them. It gave Lance the very acute feeling that he was only a ghost right now, watching the world turn with or without him.

“Is this… Lance?” Then the world seemed to stop turning. Lance looked at Pidge like she’d grown a second head. Had Hunk been talking about him?

“Yeah, this is the one and only.” Hunk laughed, patting Lance on the back to show him off. Lance preened at that, standing taller and grinning.

“He’s quieter than you described.” Pidge observed aloud, but she was staring at Lance rather than Hunk now. Briefly, Lance debated whether he was meant to participate in this conversation or continue being an onlooker. He wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in before, but right now he had to be cautious. He didn’t want to slip up and give this girl any reason to suspect him as a zombie.

“It’s been a rough week for him.” Hunk told her quietly, and she nodded respectively. Lance bit his lip, before tentatively extending his hand.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Pidge shook Lance’s hand with a vigor, so much so that Lance was eternally grateful he’d covered his nails with his sleeve to make sure they didn’t touch her skin. That was the last thing he needed to happen right now.

“Lance, would you like to come with us on Saturday to meet my friends?” Pidge asked, dropping her hands back to her sides and rocking back on her feet. “I’m thinking we’ll meet up at the place Hunk’s girlfriend works. He talks so highly of her, I gotta meet her too to get the full friend experience.”

“I don’t really-” Lance started to make an excuse, that was what he was used to as of late. He couldn’t bring himself to finish though, not when he looked up and found that Hunk was staring expectantly at him rather than Pidge. He’d never dream of saying it, he was too nice of a guy and he’d hate to put pressure on Lance, but Lance wasn’t blind. He could tell this mattered to his friend.

Despite how much he was ruining lately, he couldn’t bring himself to give anything up willingly. So he turned back to Pidge and forced a grin, prepared to tough it out for the sake of his longest lasting friendship. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go.”

“Okay, great! You’re gonna love Keith, he’s the sulky brooding type just like you.”

“Is he gay? Should I wear something nice?” The words left Lance’s lips on impulse, the sort of thing that’d come so naturally to him to say when he was in a permanent state of single and ready to mingle. He was in no position to look for anything right now, but it was a second nature at this point.

Pidge blinked at him, before a slow smile spread across her face. Lance could almost hear the gears turning in her mind, associating what he’d just said with the types of stories Hunk had no doubt told about him. That was much more on-character than anything else Lance had done since meeting her today.

“He’s gay, but he’s not really-” Pidge started to explain, before suddenly she froze. She went so stock-still and rigid that Lance started to panic, wondering if she’d noticed something about his appearance that he hadn’t. Could she tell just by looking that he was a zombie? “Wait a second. Your name’s _Lance_?”

“Uh, yes? I thought we just established that?” Lance tried not to sound sassy, he really did, but judging by the way Hunk elbowed him in the side it hadn’t worked. Whatever, Pidge had made him freak out over nothing but that dumb question.

“Do you hook-up with people a lot? Messy one night stands?” Pidge was looking at him with this wry little look, like they’d figured something out and Lance just wasn’t in on the secret. He frowned, beginning to awkwardly shift from one foot to the other.

Why was she asking him this just after meeting him? How uncomfortable.

“I don’t know if I’d call them _messy_ , but I do peruse my options from time to-”

“Yes, he does.” Hunk interrupted plainly, shaking his head. Lance gasped in utter betrayal, glaring up at Hunk from beneath the curtain of his bangs. “He used to anyway, it’s been a while.”

“Hunk, she doesn’t need to know about my sex life!” Lance cried disdainfully, rubbing his hands over his own face in exasperation. In truth, Lance had always been the type to bring up his private encounters at any given opportunity. He was a bit of a braggart, but more than that he was a hopeless romantic. When he experienced a genuine connection he didn’t hesitate to start telling everyone he knew in as much detail as possible.

It wasn’t the oversharing that bothered him, but rather the lack of things he had to show for it right now. It was just another cruel reminder of what this curse had taken from him. He couldn’t even go on dates or hook-up anymore, not without the deadly risk that followed him everywhere like a dark cloud.

“What changed?” Pidge asked suddenly, tone serious.

“Huh?” Lance stuttered, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

“Why don’t you sleep around anymore?”

“ _Oh_.” Lance said, like he understood why she was asking. He didn’t understand in the slightest, but he was calling on all of his best acting skills to cover that up. As long as she didn’t know the real reason, he didn’t care what she thought of him. “I, uh, met someone. It just felt weird to keep doing it after that.”

“Interesting.” Pidge purred, lips curling up into a wicked smirk. Lance couldn’t help but feel like he’d said the wrong thing. They looked far too satisfied for all that he’d said. “I gotta go, guys, but I’ll be in touch.”

“Awesome, can’t wait.” Hunk assured her, waving her off as she left the library. They followed not long after, Lance dazed into silence as he tried to piece together how he might have given himself anyway just then. All she’d really asked for was his name and his romantic history, what could that possibly say about being a zombie or not?

They made it out to the parking lot and into Hunk’s car before the big guy confronted Lance. His voice was soft, but the question itself was blunt.

“You met someone? You never told me it was that serious.” Lance could hear the hurt in his voice. Hunk was always the first person he came to when his crushes turned from something flippant and impulsive into a genuine attachment. It made sense that Hunk would be upset with him for not sharing this sooner, especially when he’d given Lance so many chances to open up.

“Yeah, well…” Lance trailed off, uncertain what to say. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hunk. This one’s special. I’m scared to say too much in case I jinx it.”

“Was it that person you were crying over a couple nights ago when I came over?” Hunk asked, a curious lilt to his voice. And because he deserved something more and the lie had too many holes for Lance to give it to him otherwise, Lance just tacked that lie right onto his newest one. Sure, he’d been crying over this fictional soulmate and not the person he’d non-fiction murdered, absolutely.

“Yeah.”

\--

Keith ignored the thirteenth knock on his door of the day, his attention glued to the mess of his floor. If Shiro actually opened his door one of these times, he’d have a fit upon seeing what Keith had gotten himself into. Library books thrown all over the place, cutouts from magazines, his computer and phone both open to similar pages, he’d even started a conspiracy theorist’s stringboard to document all of the information he was compiling.

He was determined to find out what exactly he was dealing with. His first instinct definitely wasn’t zombies, but the more they came up during his searches and the more he thought about all the rants Pidge had gone on… Keith found himself considering.

Lance didn’t seem mindless like the hollywood zombies, but some of the other traits definitely fit the part. It was just a matter of figuring out what was real and what wasn’t.

“Keith, they’re gonna be here any second! Help me clean!” Shiro yelled from somewhere in the house, sounding more like a plead than an order at this point. Keith dutifully ignored him. Shiro always made such a big deal of cleaning the house for any guests at all, Keith didn’t know how to explain to him that Pidge and Matt had seen their home in a terrifying state of disarray while Shiro was gone.

It was no more than ten minutes later that Keith heard the sound of a car pulling into the drive. He panicked, shoving all of his work under the bed. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to include Pidge in this just yet. She’d get too involved too quickly, she’d put herself at risk.

The door to his bedroom swung open not much later, without so much as a knock. Pidge marched into the room, grinning proudly. Keith sat up straighter at his desk, eyes wide.

“So, I think I found your guy.” Pidge told him casually, plopping her laptop down in front of his. Keith stared at the screen, breath catching in his throat as he looked at the picture. “Lance McClain.”

“That’s him.” Keith gasped, hurriedly swatting her hands away. He scrolled down, looking at all of the information Pidge had compiled on the guy. It just looked like a student profile, listing simple things like full name and age. It was certainly more than Keith had to go off of before, though. “Pidge, how did you-”

“What can I say? I’m an expert detective.” Pidge grinned, jumping up to sit on the corner of his desk. “Do I get a tip for finding him so fast?”

“He goes to our school.” Keith said, his voice an awed whisper as he stared at the university listed at the bottom of the page. Pidge snickered.

“He sure does.” She agreed, kicking her bare foot against Keith’s knee. “He’s cute, huh?”

Keith flushed, remembering the web of lies he’d gotten himself wrapped into this time to hide what was really going on. In truth, it was a little bit difficult to look at the guy objectively considering what Keith had seen him do, but he couldn’t exactly say as much. Keith wrinkled his nose and averted his gaze, hoping Pidge wouldn’t catch onto him.

“Yeah, um, I guess?” Keith tried, voice cracking like a prepubescent boy, it went so high with the lie. If Pidge was suspicious, she didn’t show it.

“God, look at you, so flustered.” She laughed wickedly, clapping him on the shoulder. Keith nodded slowly, silently thanking his past self for never making a habit out of talking about cute boys. No one had any idea what he was actually like when he was suffering from a crush. “Disgusting. I love it.”

“Screw off.” Keith grumbled, rising to his feet only to go collapse on his bed. “You wanna order pizza or something?”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea.” Pidge hummed, something about the noise far too thoughtful for the simplicity of her words. Keith lifted his head from his pillow, scowling at her. She was still settled on her desk, but now she was  typing away on her phone.

“Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not.” Pidge said, in that damned tone that Keith never could read. He may suck at lying, but Pidge was an expert. Her pokerface was unbeatable. She looked up suddenly, flashing him a smile that was far too big to have good intentions. “I hope Hunk is in the kitchen today, he always gives us extra cheese.”

“Yeah.” Keith agreed, eyeing Pidge warily as she started to dial the pizza place. He wasn’t at all surprised when she slid down off of his desk and left the room, a wry little grin on her face. She was definitely planning something, but Keith had no idea what. Was she going to order something gross on the pizza to prank him? Anchovies?

When she re-entered the room, she fell onto Keith’s bed next to him and elbowed him in the side with her bony limbs as she got comfortable. He grumbled, effectively pushed to the very edge of the mattress in the least comfortable position.

“That was Hunk.” Pidge said simply, waving her phone at Keith. “Apparently they’re so understaffed at Altea Pizza tonight that they have the owner Coran doing deliveries. We’re gonna be waiting a while.”

“Damn it.”

“It’ll take even longer because I requested a specific pizza boy.” Pidge tacked on, throwing it out with a faraway tone like it was absentminded and not entirely-intentioned. Keith knew she was up to something and this was the proof. He glared over at her. “You’re gonna love him, he’s Hunk’s favorite.”

“ _Pidge_.”

“No, trust me, you’re gonna thank me for this later.” Pidge insisted, too stubborn to hear any other opinion. So Keith settled back down into the blankets, frowning deeply all the while. It was usually Shiro trying to set him up with random boys, Pidge usually respected his privacy more than this. Had he created a monster by telling her that lie about how he knew Lance?

Speaking of Lance, Keith already couldn’t wait for Pidge to leave so he could use that name to find out more information about the guy. He wanted to know as much as he could going into this, in hopes it’d give him some sort of an advantage.

An hour passed by before they knew it. In that time Keith and Pidge had finally ventured out of Keith’s room, walking into the kitchen where it seemed Shiro and Matt were having some kind of bake-off inspired by their frat bro days. Despite using box-mixes, neither of their cakes resembled a cake in the slightest.

It was entertaining nonetheless, so Keith settled in to watch them fail miserably. Pidge did too, but eventually she wandered off. Keith was just about to go looking for her, realizing she’d been gone well over ten minutes, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Pizza!” Matt shouted, licking the mess of icing from his palm. Keith turned to stare at the door, a groan on the tip of his tongue. No wonder Pidge had disappeared, she was trying to make sure Keith had to answer the door for the stupid pizza boy she was trying to set him up with. No way was he gonna let her get her way.

“Keith, you’re already on your feet, go retrieve the goods.” Shiro instructed plainly, leaving no room for argument as he turned to start cleaning himself up. Keith’s shoulders slumped. Whatever, he’d grab the pizza out of the guy’s hands and head back inside. That’d be it.

He stomped over to the front door, digging his wallet out of his back pocket and vowing to make Pidge pay (both literally and figuratively). Keith glanced in the window to see his own reflection, cursing Pidge as he took extra care to fix the wild mess of his hair. He was going to be disappointed, he knew that already. Not once had any of his friends pointed out a genuinely interesting guy to him, this time wouldn’t be an exception.

Still… it wasn’t like he could just answer the door looking like some kind of conspiracy theorist maniac who hadn’t done anything all day but obsess over information. He had to give off a slightly better first impression than that, no matter who was on the other side of the door.

Satisfied with his appearance, Keith swung the door open and leaned into the frame of it. Dare he think it, but he might have even looked _cool_ leaning there like he had better places to be. A proper bad boy look, probably.

“Hey, sorry about the wait, I was-” Keith started to explain, lifting his gaze from the pizza box in the boy’s hands to his actual face. He abruptly snapped his jaw shut, so hard his teeth clacked together.

Keith recognized that face in an instant. The pale lips, messy unkempt hair despite it being considerably shorter than Keith’s, and those bright blue unblinking eyes staring back at him.

Lance McClain.

Monster boy. 

“Here’s your pizza, goodbye!” Lance yelled in his face, with absolutely no sense of calm whatsoever. He shoved the pizza into Keith’s hands with more force than necessary, then promptly spun around and started sprinting back to his pizza delivery car. Keith stared after him, opening and closing his mouth a few times, uncertain what he’d be saying right then even if he was capable of it.

Still, he couldn’t just let his cryptid run away from him just like that. What if he never saw Lance again after this?

“Hey!” Keith furrowed his eyebrows, realizing that it wasn’t even him that’d spoken. Shiro shoved past him to step out onto the front porch, waving around a bill in his hands.

Lance jumped upon hearing the deeper voice, freezing in the spot before hesitantly turning around. His blue eyes were wide and cautious, like he was expecting to be exterminated on the spot. He only seemed to get more tense when he saw Shiro, with his huge muscles and scars littering his face. He was the picture of intimidating, until you got close enough to notice the flour and icing smeared all over his clothes.

Lance trailed back to them, dragging his feet like he’d really rather be anywhere else. Keith stood there next to Shiro, overlooking the exchange. “You almost forgot your tip.”

“Thank-you.” Lance said kindly, flashing a quick smile at Shiro before gingerly accepting the bill he was being offered. Nevermind that he hadn’t even waited around long enough for Keith to pay him for the pizza itself.

“You’re welcome.” Shiro laughed, snatching the pizza box out of Keith’s hands and inhaling deeply. He hummed, rubbing his stomach as he turned to head back inside. Lance stood there, glued to the spot, glancing warily between Keith and his older brother.

Shiro noticed he wasn’t being flanked and turned back, nudging his foot into Keith’s. “Keith? You coming in or not?”

“I think they messed up our order.” Keith blurted, happy to get something out from his uncooperative mouth even if it made no sense whatsoever and was very clearly a lie. Keith hadn’t even opened the box, how was he meant to know if the order was messed up?

“What? This is the same kind we always-”

“No, the pricing was definitely off.” Keith insisted, never once taking his eyes off of Lance, like he might disappear right in front of him otherwise. “Do you have our receipt in your car?”

“Yeah.” Lance croaked, wringing his hands together in obvious nervousness. Keith nodded gruffly, stepping down the front steps.

“Let’s go check it out.” Keith told him. He looked back over his shoulder at Shiro, noticing the puzzled look on his brother’s face. “I’ll be back in five minutes, come looking for me if I’m not.”

“You’re so ominous, what’s going to happen to you while talking to the pizza boy?” Shiro laughed, but it was strained, confused. Keith shrugged his shoulders, turning and leading the way back to Lance’s vehicle where it was parked on the edge of the road.

They walked around to the driver’s side and Lance pretended to trifle around in his belongings for the receipt, before straightening back up and turning to Keith. With his back facing the house, Keith pinned Lance to the side of his own car.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?! Are you stalking me? Is this some kind of joke?” Keith snapped, his temper getting the better of him. Lance cowered in front of him, looking nothing like the monster Keith had been introduced to a week ago. Was it possible he had the wrong guy? No, no one else had eyes like that.

Keith leaned in closer, tightening his fist around the handful of Lance’s shirt he held. “ _Am I gonna be your next victim_?”

“Hey, woah, let’s not get carried away here!” Lance insisted, hands pinned to his sides even as he attempted to wriggle out of Keith’s grip. He tipped his head back, attempting to look behind himself and back toward the house. Ha, he thought Shiro would come to his rescue.

Lance looked back to Keith, biting his lip. “Look, I’m just doing my job. I work at Altea Pizza, I have for months.”

“A cannibal works at my favorite pizza place.” Keith snorted, “I’m gonna be sick.”

Lance scoffed, looking down between them at the ground between their feet. He inhaled deeply, looking like he was putting a great deal of effort into considering how to approach the topic. Maybe he hadn’t expected Keith to go there, at least not right away.

“You make it sound like I do it for kicks.” Lance whispered, voice low. “If I could eat literally anything else, I would love to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith demanded to know, not budging from where he stood in front of Lance. He left no room for Lance to dodge the question, let alone attempt to escape.

“Look, I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me.” Lance mumbled, refusing to look Keith in the eye at their close proximity. Keith glared at the top of his head, fist shaking with anger where he held the boy’s uniform shirt. This was a _murderer_ Keith was talking to, whether he was acting like one right now or not, he’d _killed_ someone. Keith wasn’t going to go easy on someone like that.

“Try me.”

“Look, you asked for it.” Lance grumbled, hesitantly peeking up at Keith from beneath his bangs. He shrugged his shoulders, scoffing out a dry humorless laugh. “Look, it’s not like I got an instruction manual the day it happened, but if the shoe fits… I guess I’m a zombie. That’s what I’ve been referring to it as all along, anyway.”

It really shouldn’t have given Keith such a pure, unadulterated feeling of accomplishment to hear this relative stranger say such a thing out loud. Keith was aware of that, at least. He’d always been a little strange, especially when it came to his fascination with the unknown. Most people would have been scared out of their wits right now and jumping to conclusions about an oncoming zombie apocalypse, rightfully so, but Keith found himself fighting back a grin. He _knew_ it.

He knew this Lance kid wasn’t a one-off cannibal murdering people left and right all over the city, there was more to it than that and he was about to get all of the answers.

“Are you sure you’re not on that drug that makes people eat faces?” Keith asked suddenly, just to be absolutely sure.

Lance narrowed his eyes at Keith, utterly unimpressed by the question, but Keith took the time to stare at his pupils and try to gauge if he looked high out of his mind. He seemed pretty aware, especially as he scowled at Keith and attempteding to squirm free again.

“I’m _sure_.” Lance snapped, clearly growing tired of the interrogation already. “I’ve never done a drug in my life, who do you think I am?”

“You’d rather I view you as a monster than a drug addict?” Keith said, a hint of laughter in his tone. It was undoubtedly the wrong thing to say. The moment Keith uttered the word “monster” Lance went completely tense in his grip, not struggling or squirming, simply standing there like a deer caught in headlights. There was this closed-off look in his eyes, like he’d retreated into himself and away from the rest of the conversation already.

Keith internally cursed himself for managing to say the worst possible things. Lance probably thought that Keith didn’t even believe him right about now.

“I’d rather you didn’t view me as anything at all.” Lance snapped, hands fumbling for the door handle on his car. “Can I leave?”

“You know my address and you eat people, I’m not just going to let you leave.” Keith snapped, growing quickly irritated at the thought of not getting all the answers he was after. He dug his phone out of his back pocket, his other hand staying firmly planted in the middle of Lance’s chest. “There’s gotta be someone I can call about this.”

In an instant, Lance’s hand came up and slapped Keith’s phone out of his grip. Keith yelped at the fast movement, watching helplessly as his phone flew toward the pavement.

“No, please!” Lance shouted, voice coming across as a beg more than anything else. Keith furrowed his eyebrows together, shooting Lance a glare before hurriedly grabbing his phone off the ground. When he turned back to Lance, the boy still hadn’t moved from the spot.

Keith narrowed his eyes at him, slipping his phone back into his pocket and simply watching. Lance looked to be panicking, oddly enough, at the thought of someone else finding out about what he was. It would make it more difficult for him to find food if people knew that zombies were real, maybe that was his concern?

Lance looked up from his hands suddenly, shocking Keith into further silence with the tears streaking his face. Since when could zombies cry? “I didn’t ask for this! I was a good person, I never hurt _anyone_ , I never did anything that would make me deserve this. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as a guinea pig in some lab. I want to find a _cure_.”

“And a lab will help you find one.” Keith tried, though there was uncertainty lacing his tone.

“No, it won’t!” Lance snapped, anger rising in his tone. Keith’s eyes widened, glued to the traces of red spreading through the blues of Lance’s irises. Keith took a stumbling step backward, putting space between them and preparing to bolt if he had to.

Lance didn’t pursue him though, he only started to pace back and forth beside his car. “I _saw_ what they do to things like me the night I got turned into one. They don’t want to help us, they want to exterminate us. We’re not people anymore in their eyes.”

If Keith was being totally honest, up until this interaction he hadn’t considered Lance to be a person either, not after what he’d done. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he thought, only that this wouldn’t be quite as black or white as Lance being an evil monster with no conscious. It was clear he still thought like a person, felt like one too, he just… couldn’t help his dietary requirements.

Keith groaned. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Lance was too monster to let go, but too human to capture or kill.

“You have to understand why I can’t-”

“I have a family.” Lance’s voice was desperate. Keith averted his eyes, rubbing at his temples as he felt a headache coming on.

“How can I let you go in good conscious knowing you need to _kill people_ to survive?!”

“I don’t kill people normally!” Lance exclaimed hurriedly, whipping his head up to stare at Keith. They made eye contact again, staring for a long silent moment before Lance began stuttering his way through an explanation. “Uh, they bury bodies pretty often and as long as I get to them before too long, they work as a pretty shitty substitute. No one has to die because they’re already dead.”

Keith tried his best not to gag, but he couldn’t help pulling a disgusted face.

“What about all the other animal attacks around town, huh? That wasn’t you?”

“There were more like me, I told you that.” Lance had said something like that a moment ago, but Keith had been a little too overwhelmed to register what it meant. There were more zombies. How many of them? Where were they? Why hadn’t the authorities put out a warning yet if they knew?

Lance coughed, continuing quietly. “I’m not the only one that got away. I’m just the only one that seems to have a conscious about this. So I put off eating because it makes me disgusted with myself and then it gets harder to control and… and bad things happen.”

“Killing your co-worker level of bad?”

“Yes.” Lance managed, though he seemed to be having trouble admitting it aloud. Keith studied him for a long moment, weighing his options. Lance did seem to feel genuine remorse for his actions. Besides, if Keith turned him in then he might not ever be able to track down any of the other zombies. This was his only chance to get answers. And maybe… Lance would lead him to the others and then Keith could call the authorities to get them _all_ in one go. He’d be a hero.

So he’d let Lance go and just check up on him from time to time. If he happened to kill anyone else, Keith would make sure he knew about it, and then he wouldn’t hesitate to take care of things before anything else happened.

“Stay away from here, you hear me?” Keith growled, trying to seem as intimidating as possible. He shoved Lance back against his car, though he was secretly relieved when Lance’s eyes didn’t flash red in anger back at him. “I don’t care if it’s your shift and we order a pizza, I don’t care if you physically need to drive down this road to reach your destination, I don’t care if you live on this side of the city. I don’t want to see you anywhere near this place ever again.”

“I swear I won’t.” Lance said, seemingly telling the truth. He was gone the moment Keith let him go, turning and clambering into the driver’s seat of the delivery car. He rolled the window down, waving goodbye eccentrically. “Thank-you!”

Keith didn’t respond, merely shook his head in dismissal. He wasn’t sure yet if the decision he’d just made had been the right one, or if it’d been a temporary lapse in judgment. This Lance guy was undoubtedly dangerous, but he didn’t seem to be a threat. Or maybe he was, and it was just difficult to view him as one when he was standing there begging for his life.

Keith trudged back up to the house and walked inside, feeling like he needed nothing more than a good long nap to let his emotions settle. However, he only made it one step into the house before three pairs of eyes turned to look at him.

“You get everything sorted out?” Shiro asked, lips drawn into a tight concerned line. Keith nodded, walking over and collapsing onto the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, despite knowing it’d only be a matter of time before Shiro lectured him for it.

“Uh, yeah.” Keith mumbled, going along with the lie. “I guess it was my mistake, he was right all along.”

Shiro nodded, believing him with little convincing necessary. Keith lounged there while the rest of them devoured the pizza, ignoring the intermittent questions about whether he’d like a slice. It wasn’t until they were down to the last slice or two that Shiro walked over and placed a plate directly onto Keith’s chest.

Keith promptly picked it up and dumped it onto the coffee table, making his stance clear.

“You’re not gonna have any?” Shiro sounded unreasonably worried by this fact. Sure, it was unlike Keith to pass on pizza, but one missed meal wasn’t the end of the world like Shiro seemed to think it was. He sighed.

“Not hungry right now.”

“Okay, I’ll put it in the fridge for you for later.” Shiro promised, turning and heading toward the kitchen. Matt followed not far behind, muttering something about getting a drink or dessert or both. That left Keith alone in the room with Pidge and it was only at that moment that he remembered her requesting a specific pizza boy.

Keith bolted upright, eyes wide as they landed on her. Pidge was stretched out in one of their chairs, a cat-like grin on her face when she noticed she was being stared at in shock.

“Was that who I think it was?” Pidge whispered, wiggling her eyebrows. Keith had to resist the urge to slap a hand to his face in defeat. Lance hadn’t shown up here on purpose to taunt him, it hadn’t even been a game of chance, Pidge had purposely invited that actual zombie to Keith’s domain because she thought she was playing cupid.

Keith really had to get better at coming up with lies that didn’t come back to bite him in the ass later.

“You set this up.” The way Keith said it wasn’t a question. The way Pidge’s expression went without change was a clear answer.

Keith inhaled deeply, burying his face in his hands. This was just no good. If Pidge was already this invested she would just keep at it, thinking what she was doing was a good thing for Keith. He couldn’t really blame her, this was the first guy he’d been “interested” in for a long time, but she just didn’t know the whole story. And she never would, if this was anything to go by.

He got to his feet, tiredly trailing toward his room. When Pidge moved to follow him, he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out. “Pidge, stay out of this. I can’t risk messing this up more than I already have.”

Keith didn’t wait to hear her response, only marched into his room and closed the door after himself. He made sure to remember to lock it this time before flopping down on his bed. He had a lot to think about.

\--

Just over a week had passed since that fateful night where Lance’s control had slipped and there’d been disastrous consequences because of it. Every day since had been his own personal living hell, watching his friends mourn a life _he’d_ taken. Allura was speaking at her funeral, a funeral Lance was expected to attend despite everything. How could he? How could he go and sit with all the other people in pain, pretending he wasn’t responsible for the very thing that’d hurt them?

Needless to say, it was the worst week of his life. It only got worse when halfway through it he was called to a house to deliver a pizza and ended up pinned to the side of his car being interrogated instead. It was the guy from the alley, the one that walked in on him during the kill. Of course the stranger was angry and scared alike, he had every right to be. Lance was fully prepared to be shot on the spot the second they made eye contact, or at least to be hauled away by the authorities.

But after all the interrogation and threats… the man let him go.

Lance still didn’t fully understand it, why he’d been allowed to go free when for all intents and purposes he was exactly what that stranger was accusing him of being. He was a monster, even if it only happened once, even if he never killed anyone else again, even if it was beyond his control. The blood was still on his hands, the kill count still hovered over his head like a warped halo, he was still a _murderer_. God, there was no redeeming himself from something like that.

He deserved all of the worst things in the world. He just couldn’t bring himself to be the one to inflict them, but he wouldn’t blame anyone else if they decided to punish him for what he’d done.

It was the weekend again now and Lance was fully prepared to crawl into his bed and stay there until Monday when he had his next shift, however a slew of text messages from Hunk made it impossible to concentrate on the wall he was staring at, unable to sleep on a relatively full stomach. He picked up his phone, eyes widening at all of the messages there.

He had plans today. He was going to the cafe, with Hunk, to meet all of Pidge’s friends. He’d made a _promise_ to be there because he knew how much it meant to his friend. And here he’d gone and nearly slept through it.

He rolled out of bed and got ready in record time. Halfway through tugging his pants on he got a call and he answered it without looking, already knowing it’d be Hunk wondering where he was.

“I’m on my way, okay? Hunk, I swear I’m already halfway there, I’ll be a minute or two max.” Lance lied as fast as he could, buttoning his pants with his free hand and stumbling toward his front door. He kicked his feet into his shoes and grabbed the door handle, wrenching it open.

“Actually… it’s not Hunk.” Allura’s voice filtered through the phone speakers, not that it was necessary as Lance’s eyes locked with hers. She was standing on his welcome mat, a knowing smile on her face. “Hunk figured you’d need some convincing to come, I offered to show up here and see if I could persuade you.”

“Oh, shit. It’s not that at all, I wasn’t trying to ghost on him. I _was_ going to come, I just forgot and then-”

“Are you okay?” Allura interrupted, reaching her hand out and settling it on Lance’s forehead. He blinked, catching himself just as he started to shamelessly lean into the touch. He rocked back on his heels, putting space between them before he attempted to desperately chase after more. God, how he missed touch.

“What makes you ask?” Lance asked, feigning oblivion. Allura put her hand on her hip, raking her eyes over Lance in a skeptical squint.

She looked amazing today, like she’d dressed up for the occasion and then some. Not that she didn’t always look good, that was kind of what Allura was known for, she had so many admirers all she had to do was ask for something and she’d have ten people begging her to let them give it to her. Lance had been in essentially the same position when he first got hired at the pizza place and realized she was his co-worker of all people, but Allura had made it very clear from the start that she saw him as a little brother figure and nothing more.

And it didn’t take long for Lance to come around to the idea really, being one of Allura’s closest friends certainly had more perks than being one of her endless admirers.

“I set myself up there. You were supposed to make a sexual joke about persuasion, I was going to shove you and roll my eyes. It was a classic Lance opportunity and you missed it.” Allura explained the play-by-play, snapping her fingers in front of Lance’s face to get his attention again.

“Sorry.” He laughed, swatting her hand away while still being extra careful of where his nails were. He slipped out of his apartment and locked up behind himself, aware of the fact Allura’s eyes were still on him and waiting on an answer. His hand lingered on the knob, almost hesitant to leave his home and go out into the world. “I haven’t been myself lately.”

“Don’t I know that feeling.” Allura mumbled, but then her hand was settling on Lance’s back between his shoulder blades, rubbing in soothing circles. He realized that she was worried about him because of the recent death in their circle, worried that he was closing himself off as he mourned that, but she’d surely noticed that he’d been distancing himself for a while now before that. He figured it wouldn’t be long before she was recommending him to see a therapist the same way Hunk had been lately.

Lance squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry embarrassingly enough. He was just so overwhelmed lately and he had no one to turn to. It felt like so long since someone had last held him and comforted him with touch that he’d forgotten how relieving it was. He sniffled pitifully as she brushed his hair back with her hand. He didn’t even comment on how it’d mess up the styling. “It’s alright, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now. How about we get some coffee in our systems and then we can come back here and spend some quality time together?”

“Okay.” Lance managed, reaching up to wipe his face on his sleeve. It didn’t sound like such a bad idea, he could use a night of pampering and talking about his feelings. He’d been distancing himself from everyone lately, but especially people that weren’t Hunk. Allura’s comforting just had a certain sense of understanding to it that Hunk’s didn’t. It reminded him of his older sister. It made him miss his family even more, but it brought him comfort at the same time.

After composing himself, the rest of the journey to the cafe was pretty painless. They rode together in Allura’s car, blasting music and only occasionally turning it down to talk about meaningless things they saw on the trip. It was nice, it took the edge off of what Lance was already sure would be a tense and awkward group hang-out. He didn’t know these people, he was hardly comfortable around the people he did know these days. It was bound to end badly.

When they pulled into the small parking lot out back of the cafe, Lance had begrudgingly accepted his fate and plastered a fake smile onto his face. Of course, Allura saw right through it, the same way Hunk would undoubtedly once they got inside. She sighed, reaching over to poke him in the dimple.

“You ready to go in there and trick some innocent people into being our friends?”

“I’m just here to defend my position as Hunk’s best friend, I don’t want any new ones.” Lance explained, opening up the door of the car and slipping out. They were halfway to the front doors when Lance thought to add more onto the statement. “I also want to see Shay, it’s been a while.”

“Sometimes I think if Hunk weren’t dating her, you’d go for her.” Allura commented, but her tone was light and teasing, not accusatory. Lance shrugged, neither confirming nor denying anything.

“Are you implying you wouldn’t? She’s wifey material, Allura.” Lance insisted, a genuine smile playing at the edges of his lips. He had missed this, spending time with his friends, even with all the stress it was bringing him now. “Likewise, if she hadn’t snatched Hunk up I’d be trying to woo him too. He’s the most husband material it gets.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to have them adopt you.” Allura laughed, opening the door for him.

They slipped into the small cafe side-by-side and it didn’t take long to spot the group of people they were here for. They were all settled around a table in the corner, talking and laughing non stop, their voices filling up the small room.

Lance frowned.

“They’re _loud_.”

“Oh, come on, until a couple of months ago you were pretty loud yourself.” Allura huffed, grabbing his wrist and dragging him toward the table. “At least give them a chance.”

Hunk spotted them before they got there, his eyes lighting up upon seeing that Lance was there too. If that wasn’t enough to make Lance stop dragging his feet, then nothing would have been. He cracked a small, hesitant smile and moved to meet Hunk halfway. The big guy pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing him so tightly he feared his inner zombie defense mechanisms might kick in to fight for his life.

“Hey guys! Good to see you!” Hunk greeted, throwing an arm around Lance’s shoulders and turning him to face the table. Immediately, he started gesturing to the people settled there. As Lance’s eyes focused on each of them, he felt his heart sink further and further into his stomach. “This is Pidge, Shiro, and this goofball is Matt.”

Lance didn’t know what to say. His eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for that dark head of hair and fiery glare that he’d come to associate with these people already. Where was he?

“You’re our pizza boy from the other day!” Matt greeted, extending his hand to Lance. A long pause passed before Lance tentatively took it and gave it a brief shake.

“Oh, so you guys have met?” Hunk asked, confusion written across his features.

“Yep.” Matt said, confidently. He turned to Allura then, eyes widening comically as he realized he definitely had not met her yet.

“Not exactly.” Lance corrected, before the conversation would undoubtedly veer off onto how gorgeous Allura was and how much everyone there wanted to be with her. He’d seen it happen enough times that he knew it was coming and as much as he appreciated his dear friend getting the compliments she deserved, he needed answers right now.

He turned to Matt, then to Shiro, hesitantly speaking up. “Where’s the, uh, other one?”

Matt just looked deeply confused by the question, but Shiro’s eyes lit up in recognition.

“Keith? You’re wondering about him?” Shiro asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Lance wasn’t sure how to interpret that, other than that this man was maybe happy to see Keith making friends. Maybe they were brothers, that would explain things.

“He’s fashionably late as always, but he’s on his way.” Pidge interjected, her tone curious like there was a question laced under the answer. Maybe they were both wondering why Lance cared, why he’d bothered to ask in the first place. It wasn’t like he could tell any of them how he actually knew Keith, or why he absolutely could not meet up with him again under any circumstances.

He looked down at his feet, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“I just remembered I have a date tonight!” He shouted, perhaps a little bit too loud given the chastising shush that Shay gave from behind the counter. Lance curled in on himself, repeating the words in a drastically quieter tone. Hunk looked over at Shay, smiling at her.

“A date?” Hunk repeated, gaze leaving Shay in an instant to stare wide-eyed at Lance. By some miracle he looked more intrigued than hurt by the idea. At least there was that, Lance had been hoping that he’d find an excuse to ditch out on the night that wouldn’t hurt Hunk’s feelings.

“A date.” Lance confirmed, smiling as he dug his phone out and made like he was texting someone with urgent speed. He looked up again a moment later, an apologetic grin on his face. “I’m so sorry, guys, but I really have to leave. I’ll catch a cab there or something.”

Despite knowing it’d only bring awkwardness, Lance found his gaze darting around the table. Shiro looked visibly disappointed to see him going, Matt was still staring hopelessly in Allura’s direction, Allura was eyeing the menu, and Pidge met Lance’s gaze head-on in what could only be described as an inquisitive stare. It was like she was trying to figure him out from the inside out, read his mind or something. Lance swallowed harshly, looking back to Hunk’s friendly face.

“That’s okay, Lance.” Hunk assured him, “I’m just glad to see you’re back to chasing after someone. It’s been too long without hearing you mournfully complain about rejections.”

“Hey! I don’t _always_ get rejected.”

“I don’t know, sharpshooter, you definitely set your sights a little higher than you usually get.” Allura called softly, a smirk on her face. Lance gasped in offense and her eyes flicked up at him, shining with mirth. “Hey, text me later if I can still come over. If I don’t hear from you I’ll just assume I can because really, what are the chances of you getting lucky enough to bring someone home after showing up late to the date?”

“I’m offended.” Lance squawked, picking up a napkin and biffing it at her. Allura swatted it away easily, laughing wickedly at him. In truth, he almost found himself wanting to stay despite all odds. It’d been so long since he’d gone out with friends and just felt normal.

He couldn’t stay though, not with Keith on the way. He turned to leave, still pouting deeply. “I’m outta here. Thanks for inviting me, everyone!”

“Good luck on your date!” Hunk called after him, settling into his seat. Lance knew that if he turned back he’d surely see a pair of thumbs up directed his way, encouraging him to do well. Lance didn’t look back though, then the guilt about the lie would surely eat away at him. He’d promised Hunk that he’d be here for him, but his stupid condition was ruining things for him all over again. Who knew it was so alienating to be dead.

Lance headed toward the door, pushing it open and preparing to squint his way out into the midday sunshine. He didn’t get the chance to before someone else came barreling through the door he was holding open, nearly snapping his arm in the process. As it was, he tumbled back into the cafe and landed on his ass, an armful of stranger on top of him.

But of course he couldn’t be that lucky, oh no, there was no way it was just a hasty rude stranger that happened to crash into him like that.

Lance lifted his head, rubbing at the sore spot on the back of it and preparing to give this man a piece of his mind, only to bite down on his tongue. Hair splayed in every which direction, a pair of crumpled sunglasses still clinging for dear life on the bridge of his nose, and those dark fiery eyes filled with resentment are all glaring back at him. Lance’s words died in his throat and instead out came a pathetic whimper.

“ _You_.” Keith growled, hand fitting around Lance’s neck in an instant. Lance squeaked, drawing in a sharp breath of air before he failed to be able to at all. “Where are they?! Did you do anything to them?!”

“No! I swear I didn’t touch them!” Lance croaked, too nervous to try and pry Keith’s hand off of him, lest he scratch the other boy. Keith relented a little bit, giving Lance the chance to draw a quick breath and explain himself, but he made no move to stand up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they would be here.”

“Bullshit.” Keith snapped, leaning down to sneer directly into Lance’s face. In his visibly infuriated state, Keith almost looked a little monster-like. He was definitely intimidating enough to make Lance flatten himself out on the floor in a desperate bid to put space between them. What was Keith going to do to him? Behead him right where they sat? Turn him in to the authorities without remorse?

Lance closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

“Keith! What are you doing?!” Lance cracked an eye open ever-so-slowly, staring up at Keith’s wide-eyed and guilty face. He followed Keith’s gaze, tilting his head back at an unnatural angle to stare up at where Shiro was looming over them. Despite his first impression being that Shiro was utterly terrifying in his bulkness, Lance was already growing to adore the man.

“Shiro, this is none of your business.” Keith replied, trying his best to keep his voice even.

“None of my business? Keith, you’re making a scene in public, you’re making it everyone’s business.”

“Then we’ll take it outside!” Keith shouted, grabbing the collar of Lance’s shirt and yanking him up. But before he could attempt to quite literally drag Lance out the door, Shiro was stepping between them and wrapping a hand firmly around Keith’s wrist.

“Keith, you know better than this. Act your age, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Whatever.” Keith dismissed, before letting go of Lance in a way that made it very clear he’d taken Shiro’s words to heart anyway. Relief washed over Shiro’s face and he turned to Lance, just as the rest of their friends came over to gather around.

“Lance, I am so sorry. He has the temper of a bull, when he sees red he can’t stop himself.” Shiro explained, offering his hand to Lance to shake. Lance hesitantly reached for it, anxiety boiling hot in his stomach, but he barely brushed their hands together before Keith was shoving him away.

“Don’t touch him!” Keith shouted, protectively attempting to put himself between the two of them. With a huff, Lance shrank backward, cradling his hand to his chest. Shiro grumbled, hand settling heavy on Keith’s shoulder in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. To Keith’s credit, he didn’t even flinch.

“What did he do, Keith? Close the door in your face? Step on your toes? You’ve been so jumpy lately, you need to calm down.” Shiro lectured him, attempting to pull him aside to continue. He didn’t manage to before Matt was stepping up to them, looking between Keith and Lance with a thoughtful glint in his eyes.

“Is there something going on between you two? Keith was awfully weird when you showed up at our door with a pizza.” Matt commented, looking puzzled. Shiro stopped attempting to politely wrestle Keith in an instant, glancing over at Lance. Realization seemed to dawn on him then and he turned to Keith, a serious expression on his face.

“Do you know each other?”

“Uh…” Keith trailed off, eyes flitting helplessly over to Lance. Lance looked around their combined friend groups, realizing all eyes were on him now, waiting on an answer. Think, Lance, what’s a reasonable history to have with someone that would result in all of this?

“We hooked up once and I walked out on him the next day.” Lance blurted, with all of the grace of a newborn giraffe, his voice pitchy and awkward. He waited to be called out on the lie. It would only be a matter of seconds, surely. He didn’t even know if Keith was into boys, what kind of bullshit on-the-spot improvisation had that b-

“Lance!” Hunk shouted, obviously scandalized. Lance blinked, not sure when he’d closed his eyes. He looked over at Hunk, noticing the shocked bordering on angry look on his friend’s face. He was definitely about to be called out on the lie. “You don’t even have a date tonight, _do you_? You were just trying to avoid an awkward interaction.”

He… wasn’t calling Lance out on the lie. He was calling Lance out on a previous lie. Oh no, they didn’t actually all believe that story about a hook-up gone wrong, did they?

Lance glanced around the group, wishing that the ground would swallow him whole as he noticed all of their judgmental stares. Even Shiro was looking at him differently now, like it was Keith that needed to be protected rather than Lance. Way to go, Lance, even in your impulsive lies you make yourself out to be an asshole.

“You caught me.” Lance sighed, hands dropping into his pockets. “I didn’t want to see him again after how we left things last time. As you can see, he didn’t want to see me either.”

“Keith? Is this true?” Shiro asked, but his voice was gentle this time, filled with understanding. Lance was starting to think he’d been spot-on when he’d guessed that they were brothers. However, that didn’t make him feel any better at all about just admitting to screwing Shiro’s younger brother over. The guy was buff as hell, Lance didn’t want to get his ass handed to him by someone like that.

Keith curled his hands into fists at his sides, turning to glare at Lance. He wasn’t so happy about the situation they found themselves in either, but at the very least he seemed like he was gonna go along with it.

“Yeah. We have, um, history together.” Keith managed lowly, the words sounding awkward and unfamiliar in his mouth. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing Keith confessed to frequently, or at all really, Lance couldn’t picture someone as hard-headed and rough as him having romantic feelings for anyone.

“Well, you two are just gonna have to put that in the past because I really think our friend groups will work well together.” Hunk spoke up, though he did walk over to give Lance an encouraging pat on the back. “Right, Pidge?”

Everyone looked to Pidge, who had been silently observing the whole interaction. She bristled at seeing so many pairs of eyes on her, drawing her out of her thoughts. She coughed into her fist, eyes locking with Keith’s for a moment before-

“Right.” Pidge confirmed, forcing a thin smile.

Oh, wow, okay. They were going to sit through this hang-out pretending like they’d slept together in the past and still held grudges toward each other over a rough ending. They were really gonna have to stand by that lie, of all the lies Lance could have come up with. Damn.

“Aw, Keith! You must have really liked him if you’re still holding a grudge over that.” Matt suggested, an apologetic frown on his face. Keith’s shoulders shot up, upper lip curling like he’d just smelled something absolutely vile.

“Shut-up! That’s not what-”

“Come on, let’s drop the subject before Keith starts throwing punches again.” Shiro suggested, ruffling Keith’s hair affectionately. Keith leaned into the touch, surprisingly. Lance watched them interact with curiosity, finding it difficult to see this Keith guy as anything other than harsh glares and trigger-happy hands. “We’ll agree to respect your privacy, but please respect the rest of us and try to get along.”

“Okay.” Keith agreed, allowing Shiro to lead the way back to the table. Matt and Pidge followed closely behind them. Lance made no effort to move from where he was still standing, processing all that was going on.

Hunk and Allura walked over to him, muttering their own forms of apology and sympathy before attempting to herd him back to the table. Lance went willingly, uncertain how he could realistically get out of this now after making such a scene. So he played the part, calling on all of his best acting skills to go along with the web of lies he’d gotten himself wrapped up in.

The next hour was undoubtedly the longest of Lance’s entire life.

It wasn’t like some events where it was just pure torture being there, so boring and uneventful you’d rather be anywhere else. It was worse because Lance didn’t hate it the whole time. Sometimes, as he got involved in the jokes and got to know the new people they were surrounded by, Lance almost caught himself having a good time. Then he’d remember that he was the odd one out, that Keith knew he was the odd one out, and that he had no right to be enjoying himself.

It didn’t help that every single time he felt like he’d finished breaking the ice with everyone, he’d say something just slightly wrong and Shiro would be back to glaring at him like he was a man on a mission solely to break Keith’s heart. Lance had never met any of his girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s families before, but he imagined this is what it would be like.

And Keith wasn’t even his boyfriend! He was getting nothing out of this relationship but ongoing fear!

He was relieved when everyone’s cups were empty and people started to bring up leaving more and more often. He didn’t rush them, he knew better than that now that Hunk thought he was trying to get out of this on purpose. So Lance stayed put, even as people started to slip their jackets on and he wanted nothing more than to join them, to rush out of the cafe ahead of everyone else.

“Goodnight! Thanks for coming!”

“No problem, Hunk! We had lots of fun!” Shiro told his new friend, leaning in to give him a quick hug. He turned to leave, grabbing Matt by the elbow and tugging him toward the door when he failed to stop his conversation with Allura on his own. Pidge followed at his side diligently, eyes glued to her phone screen with indifference to her brother’s antics. They were halfway to the door by the time they noticed Keith wasn’t with them.

Shiro looked back, furrowing his eyebrows. “Keith? Are you coming or?”

“I arrived late, it makes sense to leave late.” Keith explained, not looking up from the menu as he took a hearty sip of his milkshake. Lance was still glued to the seat across from him, a resigned state of acceptance falling over him.

When Shiro continued to linger, Keith finally looked up at him with a huff. “I wanna talk to Lance first. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Just to clarify, you wanna _talk_? Not fight?” Shiro pried, in the way that only older relatives could. Keith narrowed his eyes at him, as if to call him out on the patronizing tone.

“I’ll use my words, Shiro.”

“Okay.” Shiro laughed, turning toward the door Matt and Pidge had already disappeared out of. He looked back at Keith, nodding his head. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” Keith replied, in an exasperated teenager tone that said he absolutely would rather do anything but call his big brother for help. Adoptive big brother, as Lance had learned during the past hour. He knew a few things about Keith now, but not all that many. He was mechanically talented, he drove a motorcycle, and he had a fascination with cryptids and the supernatural. No wonder he wouldn’t leave Lance alone for a damn second.

He was standing next to Lance’s seat at the table now, looking almost like he might settle a hand on Lance’s shoulder to get his attention. Of course he didn’t actually do that, but he did look like he was considering it.

“Can we talk? Outside?” Keith pressed, somehow managing to make it sound like a question despite Lance knowing very plainly that he was not allowed to say no.

“Actually, I was just about to leave.” Lance explained apologetically, getting to his feet and slipping his coat on. Keith hummed, arms crossed over his chest and feet planted firmly to the ground, not backing down at the slightest at the newest excuse.

“We can walk and talk.” He suggested, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll wait with you until a cab gets here.”

“I’m not taking a cab, Allura is driving me home. Sorry.” Lance almost laughed, too thankful that he had an excuse that wasn’t even a lie.

“Lance,” Allura’s warning tone sent Lance spiraling down from cloud nine where he’d been before, toppling toward the Earth at dangerous speeds. His perfect excuse had been shattered once again, all because Allura was a decent person or something. “Don’t be a dick. Hear him out. I’ll stay behind and spend some time with Shay.”

And so, Lance had no choice but to give in. He followed Keith toward the exit, glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds to give Hunk puppy dog eyes, begging for a rescue. Hunk didn’t budge from his seat, still convinced that Lance had been the asshole in the relationship and deserved anything Keith had coming to him. How cruel it was.

Lance looked back one more time as he stepped through the door, glancing between all of his friends with a sense of bittersweet acceptance that this might be the last time he saw them all. If Keith turned him in, this was it. He could kiss freedom goodbye.

They stepped outside together, walking silently around to the back of the building. Lance watched as Keith walked over to his bike, grabbing a pair of fingerless gloves out of the compartment and slipping them on. Were those his punching gloves? Was he about to start a fight? What other practical use could fingerless gloves have?

“Look, I already know what you’re gonna say.” Lance blurted, too anxious to wait and see what Keith had planned for him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were going to be there. I’ll keep my distance from now on, I won’t show up if I know Hunk is inviting other people.”

“What about Hunk and Allura? Aren’t they in danger?” Keith responded, turning to face Lance directly again. He leaned back against his bike and crossed his arm, staring at Lance like he was an unwanted house guest, or a particularly hard-to-kill pest. “What if you go too long without eating again and kill one of them?”

“What am I supposed to do?!” Lance hissed through his teeth, exasperation setting in heavy because he was truly backed into a corner at this point. He only had so many options to begin with, and now Keith was trying to pry apart the little semblance of normal life Lance still clung onto for dear life.

He placed his hands on his hips, stepping closer to Keith and glaring at him for a change. “No, really, what would you suggest? Lock myself away in my room and never go outside again? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m doing the closest thing I can. I barely even make it to class anymore, I only have a good work attendance because I can’t afford to lose my job. Without an income I’d have to go home to my family like this and I just _can’t_ , okay?”

“I know you don’t want to give up, but what if there isn’t a cure? What if this is just how you are now and it keeps getting worse? “ Keith questioned, seeming just as clueless as to how to find a resolution as Lance was. He ran his hand through his hair, tipping his head back to stare up at the sky. “Isn’t it better to just let yourself go, for the greater good?”

“Are you asking me to take one for the team and die already?” Lance snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. Keith tensed at that, at least having the decency to look bashful about it now. “Thanks, you’re solid moral support.”

“I’m not good at things like this, okay?!” Keith snapped, but for once the anger didn’t really seem to be directed at Lance. Instead, Lance watched as Keith turned away, shoulders hunched downward and face buried in his hands. He listened to the short, harshly drawn breaths rushing past Keith’s lips.

“You’re not good at dealing with zombies? I mean, who is.” Lance tried, the hint of a laugh present in his voice. He couldn’t help it, it came naturally to him to make jokes to lighten the mood. Even now, faced with someone who hated him for his very being and thought the world would be better off without him in it, Lance couldn’t bring himself to stand there and watch Keith beat himself up. It was a difficult situation, if Lance were in his shoes he wouldn’t be dealing any better.

In truth, Lance had considered all of this. He’d thought it over so many times he thought he might be sick if he was forced to again.

Keith looked up at him incredulously, clearly having difficulty believing Lance was trying to make the most of such a tense confrontation. Lance caught his gaze, surprised to see for once that it wasn’t a glare being directed at him. Lance smiled before he could stop himself, and Keith quickly averted his eyes like the sight had hurt them.

“No, I’m not good at talking about hard topics.” Keith corrected, shaking his head. “I don’t want anyone else to have to die, Lance.”

“Except for me.” Lance corrected, but the accusation came across a lot more accepting than he’d intended for it to be. Before Keith could start to hate himself for what he was suggesting again, Lance cleared his throat. “It’s okay, I get it. I’m living on borrowed time as it is. It’s just harder when it isn’t something that’s out of your control, it’s an active decision I have to make and I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. I don’t wanna be like this, but I wanna be gone even less.”

“I’m sorry.” Keith said, and surprisingly enough it seemed completely genuine. Lance furrowed his eyebrows together, cautiously studying Keith’s face for any sign he might be lying. In all honesty, Keith was starting to look just as torn up as Lance felt. The jury was out as to whether that was a good thing or not.

He’d been caught in such a terrible grey area lately, it was almost good to have someone tell him with utter certainty that he was a monster. Seeing Keith doubting himself now only made things impossibly more confusing. Was there hope for him or not?

Keith turned to grab his helmet then, deciding that he couldn’t wait for Lance’s response any longer apparently. He slipped it onto his head and swung a leg over the side of his bike, straddling the seat by the time he looked back to Lance. “I trust you’ll make the right decision and turn yourself in.”

Lance nodded dumbly, unsure how to react beyond that because for a split second there he’d caught himself thinking something… something _strange_. He didn’t have much time to ponder it right away, distracted by the rev of the bike’s engine as Keith pulled away without so much as a goodbye. Lance turned and watched him drive off, an odd sense of nostalgia enveloping him, considering the experiences he caught himself missing were ones he’d never even had.

See, Lance had just been hit with the cruel and uniquely painful realization that in another life, Keith would have been _exactly_ his type. The passion, the tough guy act hiding a much softer side of himself, the wild hair, the douchey gloves, the _bike_. Lance would have stopped at nothing chasing after him.

But that was before, and even if Keith didn’t hate his very guts now, Lance couldn’t pursue anything with anyone. He was a liability, just being near him put people at risk. If he didn’t eat them, he might turn them accidentally, and he wasn’t even sure what was worse.

It was just odd. To see someone that he would have been so into and just instantly give up before he’d even given it a try. He’d always been known for falling too hard, too fast, and always giving it his all. He couldn’t even give it his worst now, he wouldn’t allow himself to. He didn’t even have to wait to be rejected because he was already so aware of how it’d never happen.

What kind of life _was_ he living now?

Maybe Keith was right. The world would be better off without Lance in it, and maybe Lance… maybe he wouldn’t be missing out on so much by not being here either.

\--

Keith was starting to question just how right he was about all of this. The more he learned about Lance as a person, the harder it became to view him as a monster. Of course what he’d done was unforgivable, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he regretted it, that it’d been a decision beyond his conscious making. So really, was it punishment he needed? Or help?

Spending well over an hour crowded around a small table with people generally taught you a thing or two about their personalities. Sure, it was possible Lance was just a really good actor, but he didn’t seem like a murderer. He didn’t even seem like a jerk, really. He was kind of funny, in an annoying and goofy way, constantly making himself the butt of every joke to get his friends laughing.

Things weren’t black and white anymore, they were a muddled shade of grey and Keith was panicking. It had been three weeks since that day they’d all gone out to eat together and Keith hadn’t heard anything about Lance since. It kept him up at night, wondering fruitlessly about whether or not Lance had taken his advice to heart. If he’d really turned himself in to the people that viewed him as nothing but the monster from that first night. They knew nothing about the real Lance, they didn’t care to.

The more Keith dwelled on it, the more his own conscious began to eat away at him. He was having difficulty sleeping, eating, even just living with himself and the knowledge that he’d encouraged Lance to do something so horrible. Last week Shiro had sat him down and given him a lecture about self-care.

The next day Keith called the pizza place, specifically requested to speak to Hunk, so he could request Lance as a delivery boy, only to have Hunk tell him that Lance refused to deliver to that neighborhood now. And it was Keith’s own fault, he’d made him promise to never come back!

However… that meant Lance was still around. Nothing bad had happened yet. There was still time to take it back. _If he wanted to_ , that is. Keith still wasn’t sure. He’d never been more unsure about anything in his entire life. Maybe all he needed was to talk to Lance one more time to reach a conclusion.

But what was he meant to do? Go to the pizza place and try to ambush the poor guy? Maybe jump him in the alley where they’d first met for old time’s sake?

As luck would have it, he didn’t have to come up with a plan at all. A week had passed since that very awkward call with Hunk, and today Keith found himself cruising around town in Matt’s mini van with Pidge in the passenger seat. They were running errands for their respective older brothers, but only because they’d been paid to do it.

It was after stopping at the grocery store and loading the back of the van up with an unhealthy amount of energy drink cases that Keith spotted a familiar car at the nearby intersection. He climbed behind the wheel in record time, foolishly speeding after the vehicle. Pidge was oblivious, eyes glued to her phone next to him.

Keith followed the pizza delivery car until it stopped outside of a house, at which point he carefully pulled over to the side of the road as not to cause suspicion. He leaned forward, watching as Lance climbed out of the car and strolled up to the stranger’s door, a smile on his face. Keith caught himself breathing a sigh of relief before he abruptly cut it short, eyes darting worriedly to make sure Pidge hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t.

When Lance took off again, Keith followed in the van closely behind. It went on like that for a while, Keith had no clue how much time had actually passed, but it was enough that he should have known he was pressing his luck. Still, he jumped when Pidge finally spoke up.

“Keith, what the hell are you doing?” Pidge deadpanned, leaving absolutely no room for dodging the question. She’d called him out as plain as day, there was no use denying it. Yet, Keith couldn’t just _admit_ he’d been wasting all of the gas in Matt’s mini van to drive around tailing a pizza delivery boy.

“Um, what do you mean?”

“Do you think I’m stupid just because I have a phone in my hands?” Pidge sighed, dropping her phone onto her lap and turning to stare boredly over at him. “We’ve been following that pizza delivery car for five blocks. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Keith shrunk in on himself guiltily, slumping down in his seat and watching dismally as Lance delivered another pizza to another door. What kind of excuse was Keith supposed to give Pidge for this one?

“It’s been three weeks since I’ve last talked to Lance and he told me he was going to do something and he didn’t do it.” Keith explained, in the vaguest of ways. Of course, he hadn’t really thought about what it’d sound like from Pidge’s perspective, given the lies he’d already fed her and what she believed his relationship with Lance was. All he was thinking about was trying to keep her from finding out about what Keith had really told Lance to do.

“Are you tailgating him around town because he didn’t _call_ you? Is _that_ what this is?” Pidge was already giggling, that bubbly and off-kilter cackle that there was absolutely no stopping. Keith knew, even as he prepared to fight it and deny it with everything he had, that it was a lost cause. Pidge had already reached a conclusion, and to her defense it probably was the most reasonable reason for Keith stalking Lance around town, but damn. Way to make him feel pathetic.

“No! It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” Pidge questioned, quirking an eyebrow at him. She was starting to compose herself, just barely managing to keep her expression together as laughter threatened to spill over again. Keith groaned aloud, leaning down and smacking his forehead against the steering wheel a few times for good measure.

“I don’t even like him.” Keith tried, hopelessly. Pidge hummed in a way that made it very clear how much she believed that.

“Look, I’m not judging you, I just think-”

“No, you _absolutely_ are.”

“Okay, _I am_ , but I won’t genuinely make fun of you for it until you’re either with Lance or over him. How does that sound?” Pidge offered, flashing her biggest and best convincing smile. Keith frowned deeply, looking back to where Lance was idly chatting with his customers on their front deck.

Who knew lying to all of your friends could be so taxing? It hurt to see how supportive and hopeful Pidge was underneath all of those layers of sarcasm. She really wanted the best for him and he couldn’t even let her in on what was really going on. He had to play along.

Keith couldn’t even imagine how terrible it must be for Lance, lying to everyone he knows with such a heavy weight on his shoulders.

“Pidge, we’re not gonna get together.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know the whole story, it’d never work.” Keith grumbled, bristling the more he had to explain himself.

“Why? Just because he screwed you over once before?” Pidge asked, and Keith could feel her curious gaze burning into the side of his face even without bothering to look. Instead he stared stubbornly ahead, watching as Lance cheerily skipped down the path back to his vehicle. It should have been a dead giveaway that he wasn’t human, no one was ever that happy to be working at a minimum wage job and talking to strangers.

Pidge’s hand veered into Keith’s line of view, waving in front of his eyes. “He really doesn’t seem like the type to do that, maybe it was a mistake? Maybe he had somewhere to go and he had to leave before you woke up.”

“I don’t know, let’s just get out of here and drop the subject.” Keith waited until he’d watched Lance pull away and head down the road to start the van again. He turned in the same driveway, purposely going in the opposite direction from the one Lance had gone. He foolishly thought that that would really be the end of the discussion.

They’d driven another five minutes or so when Pidge’s voice in the seat next to him drew his attention, but he quickly realized she wasn’t talking to him. He’d never pulled over to the side of the road so quickly in his life, eyes wide at the quick glimpse of the phone in Pidge’s hands.

“Hi, Lance? This is Pidge.” She greeted warmly, her tone conversational like she wasn’t ruining Keith’s life before his very eyes. He reached over, childishly attempting to swat the phone out of her hands and failing.

“Pidge!” Keith hissed desperately, trying to make sure his voice wouldn’t translate into the phone. She cast him a bored look, then made a show of putting the call on speaker. Keith scowled at her, not daring to speak up again in case Lance heard him. Instead, he sunk down in his seat and pouted.

“Can I help you with something?” Lance asked, sounding audibly confused about why he was receiving a call from Pidge. He cleared his throat. “I’m at work right now, I really shouldn’t be on the phone while driving.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll make this quick.” Pidge promised, quickly segueing into the reason behind the call. “I’m with Keith right now and the dude’s a total wreck. He’s been waiting for you to call him for three whole weeks. Can you save him the stress and just tell me in blunt terms whether you’re interested or not? He’s not good at uncertainties.”

Keith had somehow managed to shove most of his fist into his mouth, quietly relishing in the very unique torture of having Pidge ask out a boy on his behalf. He wasn’t sure if it made it worse or better that he wasn’t genuinely interested in the boy, it was beyond embarrassing either way. God, what would Lance be thinking right about now on the other end of the call?

“ _Oh_?” Lance questioned, voice cracking and giving away just how lost he felt. Pidge was grinning like a devil in her seat, clearly enjoying herself far too much. Maybe she thought she was helping Lance out just as much by pushing them toward each other.

Keith waited with bated breath for Lance’s answer, uncertain whether he’d know to play along or if he’d shut her down on the spot. There was a long thoughtful hum, and then Lance spoke up in a way that sounded about as shy as Keith felt. “I must have forgotten. Do you have his number on hand? I think I lost it.”

“So you _are_ interested?” Pidge pried, because of course she couldn’t just quit while she was ahead and leave it at that.

“Yeah, he’s cute.” Lance said it dismissively, a hint of amusement to his voice like he somehow knew Keith was there listening in, like it was an inside joke between them because they both knew it wasn’t genuine. And Keith was aware that Lance didn’t mean it, that he was just playing into the lie to cover their asses, but… he couldn’t help the selfish little smile that quirked at the corners of his lips.

A boy had never called him cute before. The circumstances were a little odd, and it was a tad bit pathetic to let something he knew to be a lie affect him like this, but whatever. His love life was in shambles to the point that the smallest thing felt notable.

“Okay, great. I’ll text you his number and you two can take it from there.” Pidge laughed, bright and airy, all too proud of herself. Maybe she’d seen Keith smiling like an idiot next to her, that’d do it.

“Sounds good.”

“Bye now.” Pidge said, sickeningly sweet. She ended the call then, immediately texting Lance the number as promised. Keith watched it happen passively, having given up on trying to fight what was happening here. Whatever, Lance had his number, it wasn’t the end of the world. “See? Was that so bad?”

“You have no idea what you’ve done.” Keith sighed, dropping his forehead to the steering wheel. Pidge rolled her eyes at him, as if he were being dramatic. If she only knew she’d just set Keith up with a man-eating zombie, maybe she’d be taking him more seriously.

“I know exactly what I did, I set you up with a cute boy.” Pidge told him, reaching over to flick his ear. He hissed out in pain through his teeth, lifting his head to glare over at her. “A cute boy that you’re _obviously_ really hung up on if you’re still thinking about him after this long.”

“I’m _not_ interested in him.” Keith insisted futilely, already knowing where this was going.

“Well, you should be… and you’re gonna give it a shot, for me.” Pidge insisted, holding up her phone to show where Lance had already texted her back thanking her for the number. Keith glared at the screen, trying to cover up the smile he found himself warding away. “He’s cute, funny, sweet. You should hear the stories Hunk tells about Lance, he thinks the world of the guy. I, for one, trust Hunk’s judgment like no other. I think he’s a real nice guy, you’d be a fool to pass up on that when _he’s_ interested in _you_.”

“Fine.” Keith grumbled, having been worn down. It wasn’t like they actually had to go anywhere together, he could just lie and say he had. “One date.”

“I want photographic evidence that you two actually went somewhere together, you hear me?” He should have seen it coming, Pidge was wise to all of his tricks by now. There was no getting out of this without spending time with Lance, or maybe hiring someone to photoshop a really convincing picture of them together. Pidge would notice though, she was too good at photoshop herself not to.

“Fine.” Keith sighed, a blush tinting his cheeks.

This was going to be so embarrassing to explain to Lance, especially given the last time they’d seen each other. It was an excuse to see him _again_ though, to maybe take back what he’d told Lance to do. He still wasn’t sure what the right decision was, but he was completely convinced he couldn’t go on like he had been.

The guilt was eating him alive (ironically enough).

“Okay, this is good.” Pidge clapped her hands together, grinning enthusiastically. She reached over and clapped him on the shoulder too, just for good measure. “I’m proud of you, Keith.”

Keith nodded, quick to distract from the topic by starting the car and getting back on the road. He was suddenly beyond eager to get home, to hole himself away in his room until his phone inevitably rang with the call he was now expecting. God forbid he take the call while his friends or brother were in the room, they’d never let him live it down if he made an idiot out of himself.

They made it home in record time, and Keith conveniently disappeared the moment they did. He went to his room, but after an hour or so of waiting for the phone to ring, Pidge walked in and accused him of waiting for the phone to ring. He couldn’t have that. So instead he went out to the garage, under the pretense of working on a project bike of his.

Of course, the problem with this being that when the phone finally did ring, Keith’s hands were covered in grease. He scrambled away from the bike, desperately wiping his hands off on his once-red shirt that was now smeared with black. He dug his phone out of his pocket, holding his breath with each ring, wondering if he’d be able to answer it before Lance hung up.

“Hello?” Keith blurted out, panting heavy breaths and pacing back and forth across the garage. He silently cursed himself for acting the way he was, nervous like a kid talking to his first crush. He didn’t even like Lance like that, he wasn’t even sure he liked Lance as a person. Keith forced himself to sit down on his bike.

“Hi, is this Keith? You wanted me to call you?” Lance asked, sounding absolutely terrified. It was like in a horror movie when the protagonist received a phone call from their stalker and was barely holding it together over the phone. Keith gave a hum of affirmation, not trusting himself to say anything. “ _Please_ don’t tell me you’ve turned me in. I swear I’m gonna do it, I just have so many people I have to say goodbye to and I can’t even explicitly say it so I have to find my own way to imply it and-”

“I’m not worried about that right now.” Keith said hurriedly, unable to continue listening to Lance rambling on. That explained why he was so scared at the start of the call, he thought this was Keith checking up on him to see if he was still around, if he’d held true to his word and turned himself in. The thought made Keith feel inexplicably gross, so he decided to redirect the topic as quickly as possible.

Coincidentally, in his haste, Keith completely forgot any of the social skills he had learned over the years and instead reverted into a panicked neanderthal. “We have to go on a date.”

“ _What_?” Lance choked out, followed by some nervous laughter that said he still wasn’t sure whether to take Keith seriously or not. Keith rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his temples, trying to will himself to think clearly. It wasn’t even a big deal, imagine how he’d handle it asking out someone he was actually interested in if this was how he coped with whatever this was.

“Pidge is convinced we’re meant to be together and against all odds, playing into the lie is better than letting her know the truth about what’s going on.”

“So? What’d you tell her?”

“We’re going on a date and she wants a photo of us together somewhere to prove it.” Keith explained, thankful that Lance was at least willing to hear him out after all he’d done. “I’m thinking we can meet in the campus park tonight? Dress nicely so it’s believable, but we’re just taking a photo and going our separate ways.”

“Okay.” Lance said, clearly processing the information. “Alright, yeah, I can do that.”

“That one bench near the fountain? 9pm?” Keith suggested, thankful when Lance gave an immediate hum of agreement. His thankfulness quickly shifted into annoyance though, when he realized Lance had given him absolutely nothing to build off of to keep the conversation going. Not that he particularly wanted to keep it going, maybe he’d just end it. “Um, see you then.”

He had every intention of just hanging up as soon as the words left his mouth, but his hands were hardly agreeable. Instead he stood there like an idiot, in the middle of an empty garage, waiting with bated breath for Lance to respond. He wasn’t even sure what he was waiting on, perhaps an official goodbye?

The silence went on long enough that Keith was pretty certain he wasn’t going to get anything, that Lance had probably already hung up and his phone just hadn’t registered it yet. Then there was a quiet sigh on the other end of the call, hesitation present in the voice.

“Thanks, Keith.” Lance spoke softly, like he was undecided yet whether it was a good idea to speak up at all. “For not telling anyone the truth.”

Keith wasn’t exactly sure what to make of his reaction to those words, the clench in his chest and the guilt in his stomach meeting somewhere in the middle as one. Lance was thanking him for the most basic of task, sounding nothing but genuine like he’d really expected Keith to throw him to the sharks without any warning. Keith frowned deeply.

“No problem. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

The next few hours passed slower than hours had ever been known to. Keith was pretty sure he was on the brink of losing his mind with the amount of times he’d rethought things like his outfit, or what he’d say to greet Lance, or how he’d bring up the topic of Lance turning himself in. He still wasn’t even entirely sure that telling Lance not to turn himself in was a good idea, but he just couldn’t live with himself knowing he’d suggested the opposite.

By the time Keith was walking the short walk to the park, he had already endured endless teasing from Pidge, Matt, and Shiro alike. He had already decided that he hated the dating scene, if something fake was this stressful he could only imagine the real deal. He would just have to be alone forever, a celibate man with a minimum of five cats. It’d be a fine life to live if he never had to feel like he did right now again.

The park was empty when he got to the gates, but he’d been expecting as much. Lance seemed like the type who always ran a little bit late, and 9pm wasn’t exactly the peak time for people to be at the park. It was dark out, the stone pathways lit only by overhead street lamps.

Keith headed over to the bench, eyes widening when he realized someone was already sitting on it. Maybe Lance had arrived early after all? How long had Keith kept him waiting?

“Hey Lance, I was thinking we could take the photo over-” Keith paused, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion as the man lifted his head. Green eyes blinked back at him, curiosity glinting in them. Keith cleared his throat. “You’re not Lance.”

In hindsight, he really should have known it wasn’t Lance. The man was wearing a worn leather jacket and cowboy-esque boots, and though Keith wasn’t sure when he’d become acquainted with what Lance’s style was, he was certain that it wasn’t _that_.

“Not at all.” The man laughed, low and amused. Keith laughed along with him, strained and awkward. It wasn’t entirely unusual to see middle-aged people on campus, and this man could very well have been a teacher, but Keith still felt uneasy around him. What was he doing out so late sitting here by himself?

“I’m, uh, looking for my friend.” Keith explained, gesturing with his hands. He eyed the empty side of the bench, wondering if he should invite himself to sit down or maybe decide on a new meeting place and call Lance to inform him of it. Calling Lance didn’t sound like such a bad idea really, even calling his annoyance of an older brother sounded like a good idea when faced with the alternative of making conversation with the stranger.

Keith started to dig his phone out of his pocket, trying not to be obvious about how wary he really was of the man. “So… what are _you_ doing out here alone this late?”

“I’m not sure yet, just waiting to see where the night takes me.” The man hummed, fingers tapping absentmindedly against the bench. Keith stood a few feet away, keeping space between them as he pulled up his messages. “I’m starting to feel real famished though, might have to hunt down a bite to eat.”

“Uh-huh.” Keith hummed, flashing a fake smile before looking back down to his phone.

_To: Lance_

_“Hey, change of plans, do you want to meet at that bar across the street instead? There’s a sketchy guy in the park.”_

Keith sent the text and quickly shoved his phone into his pocket, ready to blurt out an excuse and take off. He lifted his head, eyes widening when he saw the bench was now empty. He swallowed harshly, feeling deeply unsettled as he turned to leave. He gasped, running straight into the wall of another person. “Aw, sweetheart, that’s not a nice thing to say about someone. What makes me feel sketchy to you?”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Keith snapped, hands settling on the stranger’s chest and shoving him back a step or two. Keith dug his pocket knife out from his back pocket in record time, holding it up toward the man. “I won’t hesitate to stab you if you try anything like that again. Don’t touch me.”

The man stared at the knife, his lips curling upward into an ugly smirk the longer he looked. He lifted his hand then, and Keith stood his ground, grip tightening on the knife as he prepared to thrust it forward if need be. He didn’t have to though, the man took care of that for him, taking his hand and slamming it own on the point of the knife.

Keith gave a startled noise of disgust and stumbled backward, leaving the knife lodged through the stranger’s hand. The laugh that left the man’s throat was cruel and amused.

“Go ahead, it’ll heal.” He said, eyes fading from their previous green into something red and inhuman, just like Lance’s had been the night they met. Keith gagged on the smell of blood in the air, turning on his heel and taking off. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him toward the park gates, almost thankful for the rain that broke out on his way there as it washed the sweat off of his face.

It also, however, made the pavement inconveniently slippery. One wrong step and Keith found his foot sliding across it, giving out beneath him. He fell to the ground, knees scraping against the hard path and drawing blood through his pants. He yelped.

“Fuck.” Keith panted, immediately scrambling to get back on his legs. He didn’t get the chance to stand completely before a hand gripped the collar of his jacket, yanking it taut and choking him. He gasped for air, hands coming up to claw desperately at the ones holding him.

“See, I was going to be nice about it, I was only gonna take a few bites and let you turn into one of us so it’d heal fast.” The man tsked quietly, grip tightening around the fabric as he started to lift Keith’s body off of the ground. Keith thrashed around, legs attempting to kick back at him.

The man leaned down, hot putrid breath washing over the side of Keith’s face. “I don’t think I want to keep you around anymore, though. Might have to eat you whole instead.”

Just as Keith’s vision started to slip, body threatening to fall unconscious as it failed to draw breath, the grip on his shirt disappeared. Keith collapsed to the ground, immediately starting to crawl away even as his ears rang and his eyes blinked uncontrollably to ward away the tears. God, he probably looked a pathetic sobbing mess, unable to defend himself at all. At least the tears would blend in with the downfall of rain soaking through his clothing.

He managed to stand on shaky legs, but as his mind seemed to return to him he noticed the sounds coming from behind him. They weren’t normal pursuit noises, like the stranger had let him go just to laugh as he failed to get away. There were shouts and snarls, followed by the occasional yelp of pain or outraged hiss.

Keith hesitated, hands curled into fists as he slowly, ever so slowly, turned around. At first, it was hard to make out what was happening. It was all so fast, just a blur of color rolling around on the ground, the rare instance were a limb would stick out of the mass never lasted long before it was pulled back into the fray. It took a moment for Keith to recognize the face he was catching occasional glimpses of.

“Lance!” Keith cried out, voice hoarse in his own ears. He paced around a few feet away from them, listening to the vicious snarls and growls as they rolled around, all teeth and claws. It was like watching an animal fight and Keith was helpless to intervene, knowing the consequences if he were to accidentally get bitten in the process.

Lance had rescued him. He’d made it just in time.

Eventually, one came out on top of the other, and in the mess of shredded bloodied clothes it took Keith a moment to confirm it was Lance pinning the stranger to the ground. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, swiping his muddied hands across his face and pushing his hair back. He wasn’t sure what he expected yet, maybe for Lance to shove the stranger off with a stern talking to, the asshole leaving with his metaphorical tail between his legs like it was a dominance fight between dogs.

Whatever it was Keith was expecting, it paled in comparison to the brutal way Lance lifted his hand and immediately shoved it directly into the stranger’s chest. Keith gagged, resisting the urge to double over and spill the contents of his stomach.

“Stop it!” He shouted weakly, watching as Lance made quick work of literally tearing his opponent apart limb by limb. It got to the point that Keith couldn’t watch any longer, instead covering his ears and turning in the opposite direction, trying to even out his panicked breathing. He wandered back over to the bench, settling down on it and bringing his knees up to his chest, determined to ignore what was happening in the field next to him.

It wasn’t all that much later that Keith felt a weight settle on the bench next to him, slow and hesitant rather than in one quick thud. He lifted his head just slightly, peering over at Lance through the part of his drenched hair.

Lance… didn’t look like the Lance Keith had convinced himself the other boy was. He was back to being that monster from their first night together, covered in blood and breathing ragged uneven breaths. His eyes weren’t entirely red anymore, but they weren’t completely back to normal either, the whites of them nearly gone and replaced by the deep purple of his shifting irises.

“You tore him apart.” Keith whispered, not making any move to uncurl from the tight ball he’d worked himself into. Lance glanced over at him, his expression pained.

“He was going to _eat_ you, Keith.” Lance snapped, raking his fingers through his hair roughly. His eyes were getting redder again, hands visibly shaking as they returned to his lap. Keith swallowed.

“... Are _you_ going to eat me?” Keith asked, biting his lip.

“No.” Lance said immediately, turning to Keith with a hurt look in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, suddenly standing and pacing back and forth in front of the bench. “No, I’m not going to fucking eat you, Jesus Christ.”

“Okay.”

“Just, give me a second to get it under control.”

“Okay.” Keith repeated dumbly, watching as Lance walked off into the rain. Keith stayed where he was, sat on the bench by himself, dutifully not looking in the direction of the battle scene. Murder scene. He still wasn’t sure when his average life had taken such a turn that he could say that this wasn’t his first time witnessing a murder.

A few minutes passed and Lance returned, silently slipping back onto the bench next to him. Keith didn’t speak up immediately, and Lance made no effort to pressure him into it. Instead, Lance focused on stripping off his ripped and blood-stained jacket and shoving it into a bag. His shirt wasn’t in a much better state, but thankfully he kept that on.

Keith eyed him, noticing he brought back many bags after his trip off into the void to calm down. He must have went to his car to get them.

“You good?” Keith asked finally, clearing his throat. Lance looked over at him with a smile, his brilliant blue eyes finally back.

“I’m good.” Lance confirmed, patting the bench between them in a comforting gesture. Keith got the impression that before all of this had happened, Lance probably would have been the type to comfort by patting his arm like that, or his leg. Now he seemed hesitant hyper-aware of what he was and the risk he ran by touching other people. It made Keith feel sad, to think of how much Lance had given up already, and how he had asked him to give up even more. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s okay.” Keith said hurriedly, coughing afterward to try and cover up how invested he’d sounded. He took a deep breath, getting to his feet. He still had so much he wanted to say, but given the turn of events that’d just happened he wasn’t sure there was any easy way to bring it up. They could hardly take a photo for their pretend date with the state Lance was in. “Thank-you for saving me.”

Keith was about to turn to leave then, when Lance got to his feet beside him and shook his head.

“Don’t thank me yet, I need your help too.” Lance told him, looking apologetic. Keith scoffed, looking at Lance in confusion.

“With what?”

“We need to hide the body.” Lance answered easily, like that was a totally normal thing to say. Perhaps for someone like him it was, but certainly not for Keith. The mere thought of dragging that frayed mess of a person away made him feel sick to his stomach.

He crossed his arms over his chest, making no move to follow as Lance walked in the direction of the scene. Lance circled back quickly, realizing he had no help.

“Why? Can’t I just call it in as an animal attack?” Keith demanded to know, holding his chin up in the air and tapping his foot against the path. He may have just been saved from a near death experience by this guy, but there was no way he was helping anyone hide a body. He was already more involved in all of this than he wanted to be, that would just be taking it to the next level.

“The other zombies have a gang-like mentality going on, like a horde from a movie but worse because they still have their brain cells in working order. They won’t take kindly to one of their own being killed by another zombie, if the authorities don’t track me down with the kill being this close to my campus… the other zombies will.” Lance explained, tossing a pair of medical gloves in Keith’s direction. Keith didn’t dare to question why he had that type of thing on hand in his car. He prayed it was something to do with delivering pizzas and not something to do with his… condition.

He debated bringing up the possibility that Lance could just… _eat the body_ , but he felt that might have been in bad taste, all things considered. Maybe zombies didn’t eat other zombies. How was he supposed to know the tact that went into being undead?

Keith stared at the gloves he’d caught, debating whether he really wanted to put them on or not as it’d be committing to helping. As much as he didn’t want to be here, doing this, it was a way to stick around Lance a little bit longer and possibly get the chance to speak his mind. He didn’t want to be best friends with the dude or anything, but he didn’t want Lance to believe he just wanted him dead under any circumstances necessary.

God, what a mess he’d gotten himself into.

He didn’t even bother taking off his fingerless biking gloves, just shoved the plastic ones over them and begrudgingly followed after Lance back to the scene of the crime. He stood there rather unhelpfully as Lance kneeled next to the remains and started to shove it all into the bags he’d brought. Fitting a whole person into grocery bags was hardly a practical thing to do, but it seemed Lance wasn’t prepared for this sort of thing. Keith found an odd sense of reassurance in that.

Keith ended up helping, albeit with his shirt pulled up over his nose so he didn’t have to smell any of it and he could scowl in disgust the entire while without Lance judging him.

Lance seemed to know anyway, though. He cleaned up the worst of the mess, even laughing every now and then, but when Keith looked over at him he would quickly look away. There was no doubt in his mind that Lance was giggling at whatever form of pure horror was displayed in Keith’s eyes alone, and that should have felt more messed up than it was, but eventually he found himself giggling every now and then at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

It was beyond him how they were bonding over an act as fucked up as hiding a body together, but he couldn’t deny that he felt just a little bit closer to Lance after such an experience.

After finishing cleaning up what could still be picked up, Lance reassured Keith that the heavy rain would wash away the rest. They hauled the bags into the trees next to the parking lot one by one, close enough that Lance could back right up to them in his vehicle without anyone being able to see what they were doing.

“I don’t get it.” Keith said, as Lance stepped out of his car and walked over to where Keith was standing in the tree line. They both picked up a couple bags and piled them into the trunk, walking side by side as Keith explained himself. “How come they turned evil and you didn’t?”

“They didn’t _turn_ evil, they already were. They were bad people so now they’re bad zombies. They just feel fearless now that they’re stronger and undead, they don’t think there’s anything left to lose.” Lance explained conversationally, making quick work of piling everything into the back of his car. Keith nodded thoughtfully, deciding that that made sense.

“Where were you when you got turned that so many evil people were around?” Keith asked, his voice teasing. Lance didn’t seem to take it as the joke it was, though. He stiffened, freezing where he stood with two bags full of body in his hands. He frowned.

“House party, not a safe one.” Lance answered, shoving the last of the bags into the trunk. Keith regretted asking the question at all. He stepped back, watching as Lance slammed the trunk down and closed it, effectively hiding all of the evidence inside of it for the time being. Keith stared dismally at the car, uncertain where to go from there. “I’m gonna go bury it in the woods.”

“Okay.” Keith answered, burying his hands into his pocket and sinking his head lower into the collar of his jacket. Lance moved around to the side of the car, looking ready to hop in and drive away just like that, leaving Keith alone in the scary park to walk home.

He didn’t. Lance stopped by the driver’s side door, leaning his arms on the roof of the car and staring over at him. He looked contemplative, eyes raking over Keith’s shivering small form. Keith offered a small hopeful smile in response.

“Do you want to tag along? I’ll drive you home afterward.” Lance offered it almost dismissively, like he didn’t expect Keith to take him up on the offer. Maybe he saw Keith as someone tougher than he really was, but Keith would have paid him right about then to not have to walk home alone.

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Lance laughed, gesturing to the other side of the car. Keith was quick to clamber inside, soaked to the bone and teeth chattering. Lance didn’t seem to be bothered at all, perhaps a perk of being a dead person, but Keith did notice him cranking the heat up as the car started up.

Keith would have thanked him for it, but Lance still had that faraway look in his eyes and Keith didn’t want to say the wrong thing a second time in a row. So instead he kept quiet.

The beginning of the drive was unbearably awkward, given the tension between them and the situation they found themselves in. Keith sat as still as possible in his seat, only moving his feet in a desperate attempt to shove them closer to the heat vents.

In a desperate bid at finding the warmth he was after, he kicked his boots off and shoved his sock-covered feet directly to the vent. He sighed a happy sigh of relief, unaware how audible it’d been until Lance snorted in amusement next to him. “It’s a company car, you know, I’m really not supposed to let other people drive in it.”

“What about buddy in the back? Was he in _dire_ need of a pizza or what?” Keith blurted it out before he could think twice, eyes widening comically as he realized what he said. What a terrible joke. And in poor taste, too, Lance had just murdered the guy and now Keith was making jokes at the corpse’s expense. He was such an idiot, why did he think-

Lance’s laughter rang out loud and airy, like he hadn’t laughed in a long time and he was trying to remember how to. Keith turned his head, staring over at the other boy in awe. Lance was giggling like a fool, trying and failing to keep his mouth closed only to sputter when another bout of laughter would burst past his lips. Keith watched him closely, eyes following the happy curve of Lance’s smile, the crinkles next to his eyes.

They’d found themselves in a lot of peculiar situations together since meeting, but Lance’s face was always uncomfortably expressionless throughout all of it. The only emotion of Lance’s that Keith was really familiar with was the primal anger and hunger when he was in his zombie mode. At any other time, he just seemed a bit robot-like. What he was looking at right now was so very far from robot it hurt, it made his chest feel heavy to think of the person next to him as anything but human.

Happy suited Lance a lot better than detached and sullen, Keith figured.

“You’re kinda funny, huh?” Lance wheezed, trying to pull himself together and focus on the road. Keith laughed breathlessly, a stupid grin seemingly taking up permanent residence on his face. Realizing he could get reactions like that one out of Lance was both a blessing and a curse, now he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do anything other than try to earn another one.

After that the drive got easier. They still didn’t talk much, but Lance did reach over and turn the radio up loud. Keith wasn’t a big music person, but it was clear that Lance was, and the difference it made in the air was unbelievable. He only dared to watch out of the corner of his eye as Lance mouthed along to the songs on the radio, the occasional note slipping past his lips verbally. Keith figured if he weren’t there Lance would be singing loud and proud, it was almost a shame he wasn’t getting to witness it in its full glory, but he would take what he could get.

They arrived at their destination not much later, a pull-off spot in the middle of the woods next to a small spring where people could collect water. It didn’t look like the spot saw much traffic in recent days, but at one point it must have. Lance climbed out of the car and walked around to the back, Keith following dutifully behind him and helping carry everything.

They walked back and forth into the woods, dropping all of the bags off in a pile. On their last trip, Lance fished a shovel out of the trunk of his car as well, slinging it over his shoulder as they went back to the spot they’d chosen. He started to dig a hole immediately, wasting no time getting to work. Due to his lack of a shovel, Keith couldn’t really do much other than get in the way, so he sat on a nearby stump and simply watched Lance work.

Lance was completely concentrated, clearly rushing to finish as soon as possible. He scooped one shovel-full of dirt after another, throwing it into a neat little pile so he could fill the hole in again afterward. He seemed to be building up a sweat, though Keith wasn’t sure if zombies could sweat, so maybe that was his imagination.

It was a weird way to spend time with someone, watching as they dug a grave by the moonlight. He couldn’t just talk about the weather or attempt to make small talk, so instead he stayed quiet. He expected them to go without talking until the whole thing was done, but as Lance got a few feet into the hole he spoke up without prompting.

“It was one lapse in judgment. One stupid mistake and my whole life was ruined. Literally.” Lance explained, reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead. It took Keith a moment to catch up, to realize it was the same topic Lance had avoided like the plague earlier. He panicked, remembering the way Lance had closed him off in an instant.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Keith insisted, though the curiosity was eating him alive. Lance looked over at him and shook his head, smiling tiredly.

“Everyone told me he was bad news. None of my friends wanted anything to do with him. He’d dated so many people I knew and every single one of them told me not to get involved.” Lance sighed. “I just kept telling myself it’d be different with me, that I’d be able to change him if I stuck it out. He was a cute bad boy type, he was tough and he wore a leather jacket, and because I’m a disaster bi that’s all it takes to defeat all logical thinking my mind is usually capable of.”

“It happens.”

“It does, but _usually_ the consequence isn’t death. It’s a broken heart at best, a lifetime of trust issues at worst. It’s not… zombieism.” Lance grumbled, swinging another few shovels of dirt over his shoulder before speaking up again. “He was into the party scene, way more than I ever was. He brought me along to all of them and usually we had a pretty good time, no matter how sketchy the party or the people there were. He treated me good, he did. He was just involved with the wrong crowds and we both had to pay the price for it.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not sure exactly what went down at the party, I was pretty drunk at the time. I only know that people started attacking each other like animals, it was unlike anything I’d ever seen. The boy tried to tell me it was just a side effect of some new drug that was going around the city, but something was wrong and I knew it. I tried to leave early, he stayed behind. I managed to get out just before everything went to hell inside, but someone attempted to catch me before I got away and I got scratched.” Lance frowned deeply as he recalled the memories, like it physically hurt to think about.

Lance dropped his shovel into the hole, testing its depth. “That was all it took. One scratch.”

“So only a few made it out of the party alive? Why are there so many zombies around now then?” Keith asked, his inner conspiracy theorist getting the better of him. He was demanding more answers before thinking to comfort Lance. He thought of it afterward, but by then it was weird to offer his condolences.

At least Lance didn’t seem bothered by where his interest was.

“They’re making more.” Lance answered simply, in a tone that made it clear that should have been obvious to Keith before that instant. “Why wouldn’t they? They have monopoly over any zombie they make that isn’t heartless like them. Our options are either buy food from their morgue or take the risk of going out and killing people on our own. I’ve kinda found a loophole with the graveyard, but it’s not always stable. I still need their help sometimes when there aren’t any fresh graves.”

“That’s fucked.” Keith breathed, realizing only after the words had left his mouth that it was probably a sensitive subject. Would it have killed him to be a little more eloquent?

Lance didn’t seem bothered though, thankfully enough. He just chuckled in amusement, like he couldn’t believe how laid back Keith was being about all of this. Keith couldn’t really believe it either, if he was being honest. It was just that he’d seen the worst of it now, maybe. It probably also had something to do with the fact that he didn’t feel like what Lance had done was really murder this time. That man had deserved anything he had coming to him.

“You say as we dig a hole to bury a body in.” Lance teased, glancing up at Keith with a smile.

“Pidge is not gonna believe the first date stories I have to tell her this time.” Keith joked, surprised at how easy it was to bring up the fake date now that he was actually here with Lance. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at all compared to what they’d just gone through together.

In retrospect, Keith was a little bit oblivious to how long it actually took to dig a grave. The movies made it seem so quick and painless, when in reality Lance was digging half the night. Keith sat on the sidelines and did his best to make conversation, a task that got progressively easier the later into the night it got.

It started out small talk about Lance’s job at Altea Pizza, then about their mutual friends, and eventually it moved on to the classes they were taking in uni. Watching Lance attempt to talk about his future was bittersweet, between the passion in his plans and the uncertainty in his eyes. Keith hadn’t realized what a unique loss Lance had gone through, a death without any of the finality. He couldn’t live like he was currently, but he wasn’t dead either, so where did that leave him?

It seemed Lance wasn’t sure either, so he regarded his future with pretenses like “ _if_ ” and “ _maybe_ ”.

With that the conversation tentatively veered back to the topic of zombies, but in relation to Lance and how it affected him. Keith listened to him talk about his future plans and how they were up in the air despite striving toward them his entire life, how his love for family brought him more pain than joy as of late, and as it rolled around to 3am or so Lance even started talking about how miserable he felt knowing he could never be with anyone romantically again.

“I really am sorry for dragging you into all of this, you’d be better off being oblivious.” Lance told him, as he finished dumping the body into the grave. Keith watched with a tired yawn, hardly having the wits to be shocked by how unbothered he was by the sight.

“If I was oblivious, I’d be dead right now.” Keith pointed out, scrubbing his hands across his face. He looked over at Lance, offering an encouraging smile when he noticed the other boy was already staring his way. “I’m glad I met you like I did.”

“Can’t say the same, but thanks anyway.” Lance snorted, beginning to fill the hole back up with dirt. Even without a shovel, Keith attempted to help by kicking it in with his foot. They worked side-by-side in silence for a long moment, until Lance quietly continued the conversation. “It’s not the kind of thing you get over, murdering a person. I’m probably gonna spend the next couple of weeks sick to my core over this one too, even though he was an actual monster.”

Keith nodded solemnly, processing the information. He eyed Lance out of the corner of his vision, watching the other boy hard at work with the shovel. Keith stepped closer, biting his lip in consideration for a moment before settling a hand on Lance’s shoulder. He wanted to comfort Lance in some way, but he wasn’t sure if he was necessarily the best person to be offering support considering what he’d been pushing Lance to do before this.

Lance flinched a little at the initial contact and Keith immediately started to pull away, second-guessing himself easily. Then Lance was turning to face him though, cheeks flushed and eyes filled with bemused confusion. He didn’t look insulted by it though, or even opposed to the touch. Keith placed his hand back where it had been, smoothing it over Lance’s shoulder in a comforting circle.

This time, Lance seemed to subconsciously lean into the touch, like he’d been waiting for it to return. It was a bit like watching a cat push itself up into your hand when you stroked it. Keith had to resist the urge to laugh.

“Do you consider yourself to be a monster?” Keith asked, his voice serious. Lance looked contemplative, like he wasn’t sure of his answer.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. He shrugged his shoulders, Keith’s hand rising and falling right along with them. “Sometimes, I guess.”

“I don’t think you are, not now that I know you better.” Keith reassured him, stepping closer still and pressing himself to Lance’s side. His eyes followed the silhouette of Lance’s face in the darkness, the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose, up to his hairline where one strand was out of place against his forehead. Without thinking, Keith reached up to brush it back with the others.

Lance stiffened beside him, squaring his shoulders.

Keith coughed awkwardly, taking a step backward. “I don’t think you deserve to die either.”

“Gee, thanks.” Lance snorted, tossing the shovel aside and deeming the hole buried enough. He turned to leave and Keith caught his wrist, frowning deeply.

“I mean it.” Keith insisted, annoyed by how easily Lance had dismissed the sentiment. Keith had never been particularly good at words, but this was something he’d been dying to say for weeks. “I’m sorry for suggesting you should turn yourself in. I’m sorry for reducing you to something out of your control. I’m sorry for not giving you a chance to prove me wrong. I think you should keep looking for the cure, don’t give up.”

Lance glanced back at Keith, a thoughtful look in his eyes. He turned fully so they faced each other, his posture defensive now. Keith wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong by encouraging Lance, but he wasn’t about to take it back. He really had meant what he said. Lance had done nothing but prove him wrong since their first meeting. It was an earnest mistake, no matter the consequences, Lance had done nothing to intentionally result in that outcome.

“Doesn’t matter whether I deserve to die, no one else deserves to live in constant danger around me.”

“You just saved my _life_ , Lance.” Keith deadpanned, eyes narrowing into a glare. Lance rolled his, attempting to brush off Keith’s words with an aloof and uncaring act. He tested Keith’s grip on his wrist, trying to tug his hand free and failing. Resigned to the fact this conversation was happening whether he wanted it to or not, Lance sighed.

“By killing a person. I saved you by killing a person. One good deed doesn’t negate the bad ones.” Lance snapped, reaching down to pick up the shovel again. He turned to leave, ripping his arm out of Keith’s grip at such an awkward angle Keith was surprised he didn’t break it. Then again, maybe he had, maybe zombies didn’t work about things like that.

Keith shook his head, ridding his head of those thoughts. Lance was already leaving.

“No, you saved me by slaying a monster.” Keith insisted stubbornly, stumbling along beside Lance back toward the car. He tripped more than once over the roots of trees lining the forest floor, but Lance marched ahead uncaringly, determined not to hear a word of what Keith was saying.

And maybe if he was a milder person, Keith would have taken the hint. He would have backed off and let Lance continue to wallow in his self-pity pool. After all, it wasn’t his life, wasn’t his decision to make. If Lance really thought that he should turn himself in, Keith couldn’t hope to change his mind. But Keith wasn’t a mild person, and he wasn’t one for social cues, and he was too stubborn to ever back down.

So despite the ache in his ankle from tripping and the splinters in his hands from catching himself on the rotting wood on the ground, Keith marched after Lance as quickly as he could. He didn’t stop until he could grab a fistful of the back of the other boy’s shirt.

Lance screeched to a stop, turning around as if to yell at him. Except Keith was having exactly none of that, and instead started to yell before Lance could get a word in edgewise. “Shut-up and listen to me, you asshole!”

Lance slowly closed his mouth, looking none too happy about the fact he’d been shut down. Keith held his ground though, placing his hands on his hips and glaring angrily up at Lance, despite the hair falling into his eyes. Finally, Lance’s hard glare softened into something resembling vague annoyance, a pout still displayed on his lips.

“Calling me an asshole in no way makes me want to hear you out, for the record.” Lance grumbled petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. Keith chuckled, breathless after running after him and shouting so loudly.

“You’re a good person, Lance. I know you are. I’ve seen the way you treat people, I’ve heard the things people say about you, I can tell how much you care, and I know now that you’d never harm anyone if you could help it.” Keith explained, staring determinedly toward the ground between their feet. He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. “It might be easier to look at this in black and white, that’s what I did at first, but it’s not that simple. You’re not a murderer, you’re a hero. You’re doing everything you can to not be like the other zombies, you’re fighting this with everything you have. You would put the safety of others before yourself no matter what and the fact that you’re considering turning yourself in says that more than anything. You’re _good_ , Lance.”

“Keith, don’t-”

“And you _saved me_ , that has to count for something.” Keith pointed out, his voice a little softer and his face a little redder. At some point his hands had balled into determined fists at his sides, shaking slightly with the amount of emotion behind the words he was saying.

Lance still didn’t look convinced. So, in the usual thoughtless Keith fashion, he reached up and slapped his hand over Lance’s mouth. No warning, no preamble, no care for the fact his palm was pressed so close to a zombie-infection bite. “Before you waste your breath? I don’t give a fuck what argument you’re about to give. If you’re going to refuse to listen to me, then I’m going to refuse to listen to you even harder. In my eyes you’re a hero and you _can’t_ change my mind.”

Their eyes locked, Lance’s cool and distanced, Keith’s fiery and over-invested. The staredown lasted for a long while, close to a minute passing in utter silence, just glaring at each other. Keith’s hand was still pressed to Lance’s mouth, and if it weren’t for that he wouldn’t have noticed the change in the atmosphere as soon as it happened. He felt it when Lance’s lips quirked at the corners, curling upward against his palm. Smiling.

Keith watched as the corners of Lance’s eyes crinkled, his cheeks growing fuller, his lips stretched thin across his palm. Lance reached up between them, delicately prying Keith’s hand away from his smiling mouth.

“You’re ridiculous.” Lance accused, but there was no bite behind his words. They were light and airy, filled with so much amusement that it almost sounded like a compliment. Keith eyed him warily, unsure yet whether he wanted to let down his guard. Lance’s smile seemed genuine though, and Keith was finding it really hard not to let his composure crack and grin right back at him.

So that led them to where they were, standing in a small clearing in the trees, fighting off matching goofy tired grins. There was blood covering Lance’s shirt and jeans, rips all through his clothes, a pair of utterly defiled medical gloves tucked messily into his pocket. Meanwhile Keith was wearing his very best date clothes, ones he’d never had the opportunity to try out before tonight, his hair tied up into the neatest ponytail he could muster.

He could almost imagine the thoughts of the wildlife around them, wondering what the hell was wrong with the two of them.

Lance shook his head, as if awed into silence by Keith’s sheer stubbornness. He bit back another grin, reaching down to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. “If I’m a hero, what’s that make you? A damsel in distress?”

“N-No. Screw off before I decide to take back the nice things I said about you!” Keith stuttered, turning briskly on his heel and starting toward the car again. Why did Lance have to go and say something so embarrassing when they’d been having such a nice moment? What even was that? Was Lance making fun of him? For what?

“Hey, wait up.” Lance called gently after him, jogging the few steps to catch up to where Keith had made it already. Lance stopped him with a hesitant hand on his arm, not even gripping, just barely brushing his skin. Keith stopped all the same. “Here looks like a good place.”

“To do what?” Keith asked, turning to stare at Lance for the cryptic words. Lance was paying him no mind, digging his phone out of his pocket in record time. Before it clicked in Keith’s mind, Lance was holding the phone up over their heads, their own faces reflected on the screen in the camera app.

“Smile!” Lance insisted, grinning toward the lense himself. Keith mirrored the expression, squeaking audibly when Lance threw an arm around his shoulders to pull him further into the shot. The camera clicked a few times, taking a good handful of photos of the two of them before Lance pulled it down and edged away from Keith.

Keith only stepped close again though, watching as Lance flipped through the photos. They weren’t exactly scrapbook-worthy, all things considered. The longer Keith squinted at the screen, the more blood he seemed to notice on Lance’s shirt and even speckling his neck and face.

“If I show this to Pidge she’s gonna have so many questions.” Keith laughed, having forgotten why they’d gone out to meet in the first place until that moment. Lance giggled, texting the photos to Keith as well.

“We can take another one some other time, let’s just get back home before it gets any later.” He said, turning toward the way they’d come from. He didn’t march ahead this time though, he waited for Keith to fall into step beside him. The both of them headed back to the car together, chatting idly as they went.

\--

When Lance pulled up outside of Keith’s place just under an hour later, he felt the regret settling heavy in his chest the moment the headlights flicked off. He wondered if he could have taken another route, any other route, to extend the trip. The ice had been thoroughly broken between them given the events of the night and he was starting to realize that he actually had a little bit in common with Keith. And the things they didn’t have in common made for amusing and playful debate that kept Lance awake and on his toes despite the late hour.

All else aside, it just felt nice to have someone close after holding everyone he knew at an arm’s distance for so long. Keith knew everything, even the worst things about him, and was still treating Lance with such kindness. It was reassuring.

It was reassuring in the exact same way it was stressful. The more time he spent with Keith the more it drove home the fact that Keith was exactly the type of guy Lance would be interested in, would strive for approval from. And unlike when he’d first had that realization, now Lance _had_ that approval. Keith actually liked him and was giving him attention. And anyone who knew anything about Lance knew how quick he was to catch feelings, how often times all it took was one nice compliment or a soft smile and he was a goner.

Lance couldn’t afford to be like that anymore, to hope for a relationship when he was a walking liability, but damn if Keith wasn’t making him think about it. He’d been too down in the dumps and panicked to even look twice at anyone romantically for so long, now it seemed even harder to ignore than he remembered it being.

Keith slipped his jacket back on, slowly sitting up from where he’d been lounged out in the passenger seat. He stretched his arms above his head, yawning loudly as his eyelashes fluttered tiredly. Lance watched him out of the corner of his vision, a soft lazy smile twitching his lips upward.

They’d talked most of the way home and zombies hadn’t even come up once, which was probably a first for them.

“Thanks for driving me home.” Keith said, turning to look over at him. Lance nodded, untrusting of his own voice when a half-asleep Keith was squinting at him like that, grinning all the while.

“No problemo, you can count on me any time.” Lance said, rather awkwardly, slapping his hands against the steering wheel in something that vaguely resembled a rhythm. Keith rolled his eyes, turning to leave. His hand had already settled on the door handle and Lance was debating the protocol for a situation like this, if he should say goodnight or wish him sweet dreams. Maybe that was too gay. Maybe Lance hadn’t done this for a long time and he was losing his touch.

“The lights are still on.” Keith spoke up, interrupting Lance’s spiralling thoughts. Lance blinked, turning to look at the house, where sure enough half the lights in the house were on. He hadn’t thought anything of it at first, figured that maybe Shiro was waiting up for his little brother to return home, but Keith didn’t seem to think of it as something to be ignored.

“Is Shiro still up? It’s like 4am.” Lance pointed out, biting his lip. Keith hadn’t gotten out of the car yet, hadn’t even opened the door. They weren’t really close enough for Lance to warrant a guess, and all things considered Keith seemed like a real tough guy, but he couldn’t help but imagine himself in Keith’s shoes right now. Freshly attacked by a zombie only to come home to things out of place from the usual, his anxiety was probably running high without this extra stress.

“He’s not usually the type to stay up late.” Keith explained, sounding distracted. Lance debated it for a long moment, warily eyed his neatly-trimmed nails to be sure there wasn’t any chance of them scratch anybody, and then reached over to squeeze Keith’s knee in reassurance.

“Do you want me to come in with you? Check that everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, if that’s not too much trouble.” The immediate agreement was a dead giveaway that Lance’s guess had been on-track, that Keith had been just waiting for him to offer. Thank God, it would have been awkward to receive a rejection and realize that Keith didn’t trust him nearly as much as his dramatic speech in the woods had let on.

Lance leaned back in his seat, glancing down at himself critically before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the backseat. The punched-out gasp of horrified breath from the passenger seat was enough to make Lance shiver in fear, eyes flickering to Keith’s wide and mortified ones. Lance slowly, ever so slowly, lifted a single eyebrow in question.

Keith reached into the backseat, shoving the shirt back into Lance’s hands. “What are you doing?!”

“My clothes are covered in blood, I don’t want to risk being seen like that.” Lance explained, holding up the shirt and pointing to the many blood stains to prove. Keith’s hard glare shifted into begrudging acceptance, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“He’s probably asleep anyway, maybe he just forgot the light on.” Keith suggested, staring wistfully toward the house. It was all too clear that he was contemplating just risking his life and going inside, as long as it meant Lance wouldn’t take off another article of clothing. Lance wasn’t sure whether to be deeply insulted or flattered, uncertain where exactly Keith’s flustered state was stemming from.

“And if that isn’t the case? You gonna try to fight a zombie off with a pocket knife again?” Lance huffed, maybe a little bit defensively. Sure, he was dead, but he still took care of his body. It wasn’t appalling to look at or anything, he worked out, he moisturized.

Keith turned to look at him in a critical examination sort of way, eyes flickering downward and following the line of Lance’s chest. It felt less like being checked out sexually and more like being judged. Lance shifted uneasily, deciding to try and charm that hard-line look off of Keith’s face. “Not that I doubt your capabilities or anything, that _was_ pretty badass, but I feel like I should make sure you get in safely and all.”

“Look at you with your proper first date etiquette.” Keith snorted, finally taking his attention off of Lance and looking back toward the house. Lance had to fight the urge to sigh audibly in relief. Having Keith’s eyes glued to him while he attempted to clumsily undress behind the wheel of a car? Not fun.

“It’s decent person etiquette.” Lance muttered, quickly unbuckling his jeans and wiggling them down his legs. He didn’t catch Keith looking his way this time, which was perhaps for the best considering he’d decided to wear his emoji-clad boxers today. Talk about a real stud, Lance, just make it _real_ obvious how little action you’ve been getting lately.

“At least wear my jacket and cover yourself up a little bit.” Keith grumbled indignantly, shoving said jacket in Lance’s direction. He took it into his hands, wondering how such a tiny cropped jacket was going to save him any modesty. Whatever, he’d shove it on anyway if it made Keith stop freaking out so much.

They walked into the house together, Keith unlocking the front door while Lance stood a few steps back, wearing nothing but his dumb boxers and Keith’s dumb jacket. Luckily the rest of the neighborhood seemed to be thoroughly asleep, he didn’t want to risk being caught like this anymore than he wanted to risk being caught covered in blood.

Keith led the way into the house, Lance trailing closely behind in case he had to fight off any potential intruders. He’d never really been much of a fighter before becoming a zombie, but it seemed to be a part of the job description.

When Keith froze in front of him, holding up an arm to keep Lance behind him, they both seemed to be assuming the worst. Listening closely, Lance could hear the quiet shuffle of footsteps, of voices speaking quietly in the room over. Keith was shaking the slightest bit, no doubt filled with worry for his brother.

Lance stepped around him, then turned the corner into the next room. Sure enough, someone was in there, but it was only one person. One person muttering unintelligible words to themselves, way too small to be Shiro. Their hood was pulled up over their head, hands shoving carelessly through the cupboards and making a big mess as they searched for something, presumably valuables.

Lance held up his fists, ready to kick some ass and save Keith for a second time that night, only to have fingers weave into his hair and yank him backward.

Lance yelped, stumbling back into Keith’s chest. He nearly knocked them both over in the process, but Keith managed to catch himself on the doorframe and haul Lance back onto his feet with an arm wrapped around his stomach. Lance was about to start firing off questions, when the person on the other side of the room turned around, glasses glinting in the light let off by the fridge.

“Hey Keith, Shiro invited Matt over and I tagged along to see if you-”

“ _Pidge_?” Lance interrupted, voice going high in an embarrassing amount of shock. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly thankful that Keith had realized who the intruder was quicker than he had, who knows what he would have done to their poor mutual friend.

As it was, Pidge was looking at him like she somehow knew what Lance had almost done. Her eyes were narrowed in disbelief, her upper lip curled in poorly concealed disgust. She curled her fist around the cup in her hand, a breathless little amused sound tumbling past her lips.

“ _Lance_?” Pidge said, voice tinged with an equal amount of shock. Lance opened his mouth to say something else, only to have Keith slap a hand over his lips and shush him. Lance scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, turning to look at the other boy.

And, oh God, that was such a mistake. Keith’s eyes were flitting nervously between Lance and Pidge, his cheeks aflame with the brightest shade of red blush Lance had ever seen. It was in that moment that Lance realized what this looked like. Sneaking in at 4am, wearing nothing but boxers and Keith’s jacket, Keith’s _fucking_ arm wrapped around his waist. Oh. Oh no.

Pidge was giggling now, low and wicked. “Oh, Keith, I thought you didn’t like him? Thought you didn’t even want to go on the date? You know how much I _love_ to say I told you so, you really walked right into this one.”

“It’s not what it looks l-” Before Keith could finish explaining himself, Pidge interrupted with a loud shout.

“Shiro! Your baby brother is sneaking a boy into the house!”

“Pidge!” Keith hissed in outrage, eyes wide as he looked toward the hallway like Shiro would materialize right there and kick his ass. No one mysteriously appeared behind them, but there was a splutter followed by messy laughter from the room over.

“Ew! Can’t they go to Lance’s place instead, what if we _hear_ them?” Someone called back, voice too squeaky to be Shiro, presumably a drunken Matt. Lance caught himself chuckling right along with him, the sheer distress present in Matt’s voice entertaining. Keith didn’t seem to think so.

“You won’t!” Keith yelled, grabbing Lance’s wrist and physically dragging him into the next room over where the others were. Keith stomped into the room, hauling Lance closely behind him. They walked in on an interesting scene. Shiro, Matt, and Allura were all sprawled out across the couch eating from one severely oversized bowl of popcorn.

Lance grinned at Allura, not all that surprised to see her here, but still excited. She had always been a social butterfly, it was no surprise she’d clicked with these new friends after their dinner. Allura grinned back at him, a cheeky look about her. Oh. Right. They thought Lance was here for a hook-up. Lance wasn’t wearing enough clothes to try and prove them otherwise.

Keith was doing his damndest to convince them though, red-in-the face and pointing to each of them one by one. “You won’t hear us because we’re not gonna do anything!”

“He’s lying through his teeth, Lance is already half-naked.” Pidge muttered, shoving her way into the room and settling into an empty seat. “Stop being weird about it and get outta here, live while you’re young.”

“Shiro.” Keith sighed, staring in exasperation toward his brother. Shiro looked away from the screen back to him, looking almost bored. “At least tell me you believe me. When have I ever brought a boy home for _that_ reason?”

“Look, I’m not giving any input. It’s none of my business.” Shiro said, leaving no room for argument. He picked up the remote, momentarily pausing the movie they were watching. He looked over to Pidge, his tone strict. “Pidge, stop teasing them.”

“You guys suck, you know that?” Keith groaned, running a hand roughly through his hair. Allura gave a snicker at that, then gave Lance a discreet thumbs up. It might have been as funny as she intended it to be, if Lance hadn’t noticed that Shiro had noticed and was scowling tenfold for it. Yikes.

Luckily, Lance didn’t have to stand there too long being scrutinized by Shiro before Keith started to lead him back to his bedroom. Lance followed clumsily along behind him, preparing himself for what would no doubt be one hell of an angry Keith lash out. He shouldn’t have walked into the house in his boxers, that was a poor move on his part, but he didn’t exactly have a world of options.

Surprisingly enough, once Keith had shoved Lance into his room and closed the door behind them, there was no yelling that followed. In fact, there was an unsettling amount of silence instead. Keith marched into his room and promptly started to trifle through his belongings, leaving Lance to stand just inside the doorway and simply _observe_.

To say the room was uniquely Keith would be an understatement. The mechanics books piled clumsily on his bedside table, the leather jacket swung over his desk chair, the posters covering every single inch of his wall space that displayed everything from 80s rock bands to cryptids to hippos. It was a contradicting mess of a room, but in a way that made it abundantly clear it was intentionally that way. It was as confusing and multifaceted as Keith as a person. Bold and brave in its uncertainty.

Lance stepped toward the small desk in the corner, eyeing all of the photos messily displayed on the walls around it. Photos of Keith with friends, with bikes, with family, with animals, with cars. God, there was so many dumb photos of Keith with cars and bikes, what a freaking loser.

“Here’s a change of clothes.” Keith blurted, breaking Lance out of his reverie. He turned, barely managing to catch the pile of clothes Keith urgently shoved into his arms. Lance stared down at them, slowly picking up the shirt and resisting the urge to laugh. It was one of those shirts covered in wolf heads, all howling at a moon in the middle. The pants were just a pair of pajamas, a simple black checkered pattern.

Lance pulled them on, and Keith didn’t speak up or look at him again until he was fully dressed. Even then, it was only to dismissively glance him over and then point toward the window. “You can sneak out through there, it’s not a very far drop at all.”

Lance looked to the window, a soft sense of disappointment settling over him. What, with handing him a pair of pajamas and inviting him back to his bedroom, Lance had half been expecting an invitation to stay overnight. Platonically, of course, just as friends. Maybe not even sleeping in the same bed, he could go for an air mattress.

“Shiro’s gonna think I walked out on you again.” Lance mumbled, walking over to the window and eyeing the drop to the ground. It was a little high, but nothing impossible.

“I mean, considering you never walked out on me in the first place it’s not really a big deal.” Keith said, picking up one of those books on mechanics and burying his face into it. Lance took his distraction for the opportunity it was, looking Keith over.

His once nice button-up shirt was now messy and covered in dirt, in a way that alluded to what they’d really done, but could also easily be mistaken as the after effects of getting a little too handsy with someone in the park. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, which Lance found endearing enough as it was, but then he got to watch as Keith reached up without looking and tugged the elastic band from his hair. It now fell in messy waves around his shoulders, nothing like the straightened-to-hell-and-back hair Lance normally got to witness.

“It will be to him. He already looks at me like he wants to beat me up.” Lance hauled the window open, talking mostly just for the sake of calming his own nerves then. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of this turn of events, of the indifferent way Keith was suddenly regarding him. It was almost worse than being yelled at and lectured.

Lance lifted his first foot onto the window frame, only to have it knocked down by a mechanics book tossed directly into his shin. He yelped and stumbled backward, looking to Keith with a pout.

“He does not.” Keith snapped, looking defensive.

“Does too.” Lance challenged, partly because it was the truth but mostly because he could tell he’d stumbled across a new way to push Keith’s buttons. Hell if he wasn’t going to take advantage of that and tease him a little bit. “He’s got that scary big brother thing going for him, Keith. I don’t want to get on his bad side, who knows what he’d do to me. If I’m gonna be your fake boyfriend I have to be a _good_ fake boyfriend.”

“Whatever.” Keith huffed, rather moodily. He pried the covers back and snuggled down into them, not even bothering to take his dirty clothes off, the utter animal. Keith’s head hitting the pillow with a thump. Lance looked back at him as he slowly started to back out of the window, watching as Keith’s eyes fluttered tiredly. He looked on the brink of passing out already.

“You’ll tell them I treated you real sweet-like on our date, right?” Lance spoke up, rather loudly, a selfish streak in him insistent that he wanted to see Keith’s eyes one last time before he left. Keith cracked open a single eye, glaring toward Lance.

“I’ll tell them you were the utmost gentleman, Lance.”

“Good.” Lance laughed, light and breathy. He lowered himself down until he was completely out of the window, feet touching the grass outside. He crossed his arms on the window sill, resting his chin on his hands and staring in at Keith. The other boy looked utterly exhausted, like he was doing everything in his power not to fall asleep just until Lance left. It made Lance never want to leave.

He attempted to stall for time. “Just a quick suggestion? Don’t mention the murdering part, I feel like that might have been moving too fast for a first date.”

The moment the words left his lips, he wondered if maybe it’d been a mistake. That was a bit of a crude joke, to make light of what they’d done tonight. Some people might find that to be in bad taste.

Keith didn’t seem to be one of them, though. A breathy little chuckle tumbled past his lips, followed by a few more until he was sleepily giggling like a fool. He pulled the blanket up to his eyes, attempting to muffle his laughter behind it.

“You think you’re _so_ funny.” Keith slurred, eyes crinkling with a smile even though Lance couldn’t see it behind the blanket. Keith shook his head, nuzzling his face into the pillow, hair falling around his face in its own messy mockery of a halo. Lance swallowed hard, realizing what a terrible mistake it’d been to stick around longer and humor that full feeling in his chest.

“I, uh...” Lance trailed off, fingertips tapping nervously against the window sill. He looked over his shoulder toward his car, making up his mind. “Night, Keith!”

“Wait!” Keith called out immediately, suddenly much more awake. Lance had barely even started to turn away, but he debated the option of just pretending he hadn’t heard Keith and leaving anyway. It was a little bit rude, but so was whatever Keith was doing right now to mess with his emotions. It was too much, too cute.

Lance was a weak man when it came to indulging himself, he always had been, so he turned back despite his best instincts. He looked back into the room, to where Keith was sitting up in bed and rubbing at his eyes. Keith blinked them open, looking over at Lance and grinning when he saw he’d actually returned to the window. “You can stay if you want.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Keith said simply, flopping back against the mattress. He stared up at the ceiling in silence for so long that Lance thought maybe he’d fallen asleep after all, that the invitation had just been a sleep-deprived lapse of judgment. But then Keith spoke up again, his voice impatient. “Why make me repeat myself?”

And he had a point really. Why make him repeat himself? Lance already knew what he wanted to do.

So Lance climbed back into Keith’s window and fell into his room, knocking a few things over in the process and hoping no one in the other room misinterpreted the crash of belongings to the floor. He turned to the bed then, standing beside it awkwardly. Keith’s eyes flickered to his, but the rest of his body remained sprawled out and unmoving, taking up the entirety of the bed.

“Do you have like an air mattress or should I wait for the couch to clear up?” Lance asked, looking around the room for any sign of where he was meant to sleep.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Keith pulled the covers back and patted the small stretch of mattress his body wasn’t currently occupying. “There’s plenty of room here.”

Lance debated telling him that there wasn’t much room at all with the way he was laying, but instead he decided to focus on the real issue at hand. The thought of crawling into bed with another person, a living person, made all sorts of alarms go off in Lance’s head. He’d been keeping his distance from everyone both mentally and physically, this was the exact opposite of that.

“You’re not… worried?”

“About what?” Keith slurred, voice growing steadily harder to understand as he grew more tired.

“Me eating you in your sleep?” Lance suggested, attempting to make his voice teasing but coming across as just as worried as he felt. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was hungry enough right now to be able to sleep, but he wasn’t about to try and explain how that worked to Keith.

“You wouldn’t dare try it with Shiro in the house.” Keith pointed out, grinning to himself. Lance laughed quietly, scuffing his toes against the carpet flooring. He looked down at his feet and then back up at Keith, who once again looked completely unconscious.

“What if I scratch you accidentally?” Lance asked, biting his lip. “Maybe I should just go home…”

Keith bolted upright at that, wide awake as he turned to his bedside table and started sifting through the drawer. He pulled out something red and fluffy and shoved them in Lance’s direction, nodding once in affirmation.

“Here.” He said simply, then turned back to the bed with a relieved sigh. Lance looked over the fabric in his hands, a pair of fuzzy red mittens. He stifled a laugh, thinking this might be one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever done for the chance to be close to a cute boy.

“Thanks, Keith.” He muttered, slipping the mittens on. He crawled into the bed then, wary of keeping space between them. It wasn’t exactly easy with the way Keith seemed determined to sleep, but if he minded Lance’s shoulder digging into his arm, he didn’t mention it.

“Night, Lance.” Keith yawned, reaching to pat Lance’s hipbone a few times, much like one would a dog they were attempting to settle. Lance chuckled.

“I had fun tonight, you know?” He whispered, making himself comfortable on the very edge of the mattress Keith had saved for him. Keith lifted his head, glancing over at Lance. “It was a little unorthodox and I wouldn’t say I’d ever do it again, but I feel a lot closer to you for it.”

“Yeah.” Keith agreed, smiling gently. “Me too.”

\--

The next morning Keith woke up alone. This wasn’t exactly a shock to him until he sat up and took a look at himself, at the outfit he was wearing. The memories came rushing back to him at a dizzying pace and he flopped back against the pillow, thoughts of Lance swirling around in his head. Leave it to Lance to put up such a big deal about not wanting Shiro to think he’d walked out on Keith, only to actually walk out on Keith the next morning.

Keith got up, unhappily going about stripping off his dirty clothes and replacing them with some clean ones. He grabbed a comb, prepared to start attempting to tame his unruly hair, when his gaze fell on the window. More importantly, the view outside of it. The fucking pizza van was still parked in his driveway, shining in the morning sunlight. Lance hadn’t left yet.

Keith blinked in confusion, before promptly heading toward the door. He hurried down the hallway, walking barefoot into the kitchen. Shiro, Matt, Allura, and Pidge were all settled around the table and talking quietly together. Keith ignored that though, eyes flickering to where Lance stood behind the stove, cooking something.

Having heard him enter the room, Shiro looked away from the newspaper in his hands and to Keith. He grinned, nodding his head.

“Good morning.” Shiro said, gesturing to the seat next to him. Keith stared at it for a moment before bypassing it entirely, heading in a straight line toward where Lance was standing. On his way there, he couldn’t miss the quiet snickers from Pidge’s direction.

“Sleeping Beauty who? I only know Sleeping Ugly.” Pidge teased, pointing her fork toward him. “Your hair looks like a rat’s nest.”

Keith ignored her, sidling up beside Lance and eyeing the full breakfast cooking on the stove burners. His stomach growled loudly, his mouth watering. Lance must have noticed his presence, but he didn’t address him yet, too focused on cooking.

“She’s purposely trying to rile him up and it isn’t even working.” Matt whispered behind him, loud enough that Keith realized he was probably meant to hear it. Keith ignored him, too.

“Fascinating.” Pidge whispered, clearly awed.

Growing tired of listening to them, he leaned purposely into Lance’s side. Lance finally looked away from the frying pan, glancing down at Keith with an intrigued quirk to his lips. Keith smiled back up at him.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, glancing up at him through his lashes. Lance shrugged.

“Making breakfast.” Lance explained, waving the spatula tellingly in a gesture. He leaned closer to Keith then, his voice dropping to a barely audible tone as he whispered in his ear. “I want to make a good impression. I think Shiro is even starting to _like_ me.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Keith rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder at his other friends. He blanched when he saw all of them staring wide-eyed back at him, totally invested in watching him and Lance interacting. Even Allura looked intrigued. Keith glared at them, then turned back to Lance. “They all like you, how could they not?”

“Shut-up.” Lance groaned, playfully pretending to swat at Keith with the spatula. Keith dodged his attempt all the same, then reached over before Lance could recoil for another attack, effortlessly snagging a piece of bacon from the pan. He winced at the heat, blowing on it to cool it down, juggling it from one hand to the other.

Lance jumped back now, shrieking in outrage.

“Hey!” Lance jabbed a finger into Keith’s chest, fuming at him. Keith snickered, not even hesitating before tossing the piece of bacon into his mouth and crunching down. The burn on his tongue was totally worth the expression of sheer horror that flashed across Lance’s face. “It wasn’t even done cooking yet, you animal!

“Oh, that’s _rich_ coming from you.” Keith snorted, rolling his eyes. Lance stared at him in disbelief, easily catching the joke. He slowly lifted his middle finger and shoved it into Keith’s face.

“That wasn’t funny.” Lance snapped, shoving Keith back a step.

“It was totally funny.” Keith argued, bouncing back into Lance’s personal space and attempting to snag another piece of bacon. Lance caught him this time and slapped his hand with the spatula, hissing like a cat.

“What are they implying?” Pidge muttered, sounding genuinely perplexed. Keith offered no form of explanation.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think I like it.” Matt whispered back, taking a loud slurp of his drink.

Keith didn’t sit down with the others the entire time Lance was cooking. He stayed near the stove, either leaning into Lance’s side or propped up on the counter watching him work. Lance didn’t seem to mind, humming along to some unintelligible song under his breath, sneaking glances in Keith’s direction every now and then only to find Keith already looking back at him.

When things were starting to finish up, Lance shooed Keith over to the table to make room. Keith went along with it, slumping into his seat.

“Breakfast is served.” Lance sang dramatically, placing plates down in front of each person. Keith didn’t hesitate to start immediately devouring his, despite Lance smacking him on the back of the head in reprimand and telling him to _taste his fucking food before swallowing it_. Lance gave up quickly, slumping into the sole remaining chair at the table that wasn’t occupied.

“I should go, I have class in an hour.” He announced, to no one in particular. Keith’s head jerked upright though, eyes wide.

“You’re not staying to eat?”

“Nah, probably shouldn’t.” Lance dismissed him, waving his hand through the air. Keith couldn’t tell exactly if Lance had noticed how this upset him or if he was just damn good at playing his part, but there was no denying the gentle way Lance reached over to squeeze his hand. “I’ll text you?”

Keith was in the middle of taking a sip of his drink when Lance decided to do this, meaning he ended up choking on the water and coughing like a fool.

“Okay.” Keith choked out, wheezing slightly as he attempted to catch his breath. Lance laughed, getting to his feet and patting Keith on the back. Uncertain whether Lance knew just how much he’d influenced the scene, Keith quickly shrugged off Lance’s help and squared his shoulders.

Lance turned to leave then, walking indifferently toward the hallway. He didn’t quite get there before being interrupted.

“What? No goodbye kiss?” Pidge sighed dramatically into the void, clearly overdoing just how disappointed she was by the situation. Keith shot her a glare.

“ _Pidge_.” He deadpanned, his voice holding an unspoken warning behind the word. Pidge gave him an apologetic smile, knowing the line for what it was when she crossed it. Satisfied that that was the end of that, Keith went back to eating his meal, only to be interrupted a moment later by an arm settling around his shoulders. He looked up, just in time to be blindsided by a pair of pursed lips pressed to his cheek.

Keith barely had time to register it before Lance was practically lurching backward, waving around the room in a frantic manner.

“Bye, everyone! Have a nice weekend!” Lance shouted, perhaps a little bit too loudly given the way his voice cracked. Keith turned to stare after him, continuing to eye the spot Lance had been standing long after the boy disappeared from his vision.

Keith turned around, slouching down in his chair so the collar of his jacket could hide the flush of his cheeks. His heart was racing, stomach flipping and flopping insistently inside of himself, skin burning where Lance had _kissed_ it.

After giving himself nearly a minute to recover, Keith attempted to scoop another spoonful of food into his mouth with his too-shaky hands. He managed it, but not without anyone else noticing his struggle.

“Keith, you blush any harder and we’re gonna have difficulty telling where you start and where your jacket ends.” Keith looked up, ready to snap at Pidge for the comment, only to find Shiro looking back at him with that same wry little smirk. Keith groaned, reaching up and burying his face into his hands.

“Shut-up.” Keith huffed, digging his phone out and starting to type out a message.

_To: Lance_

_“What was that about, asshole?”_

The reply came not much later at all, like Lance had been waiting to hear from him.

_From: Lance_

_“Just keeping character!!”_

Keith stared at the text for an extended period of time before letting out a defeated sigh.

“I’m going to work on my bike.” Keith told the room, turning and leaving before any of them could try to interrupt his plans. He marched out to the garage, ready to bury his phone in his pocket and forget all about stupid Lance. He liked mechanics for that very reason, it took all of his concentration and kept him from fixating on other things too much.

Though, as he started to work and found himself checking his texts more often than not, he realized there was a newfound flaw in his usually flawless system. He couldn’t seem to distract himself from what was on his mind this time, no matter how he threw himself into his work. It was like being a young teen full of angst all over again, unable to think about anything else. Except instead of poorly-concealed hurt and loneliness, it was a strange fluttering happiness that had Keith smiling to himself like a total loser.

It wasn’t like he was going to have any new messages either, considering Lance had been the last to respond to him.

\--

When Lance walked into his shift that day, he immediately knew something was up. He could feel Hunk’s eyes on him as he slid his uniform hat onto his head, adjusting the hair net to fit comfortably. It was unlike Hunk to focus on anything other than his work when he was in the kitchen, especially while on the clock, so it had to be something big.

It was for this very reason that Lance lingered rather than immediately leaving to head out on his deliveries. He brushed past Hunk, intentionally bumping into him a little bit, attempting to urge a reaction. A reaction he did get, in the form of Hunk exhaling an entire sentence in one long breath, like he’d been holding it in the whole time. “Pidge tells me you went on a date with Keith.”

“Oh?” Lance hummed, drumming his fingers against the countertop. He glanced back at Hunk, laughing at the all-invested way Hunk was staring at him, even leaning in closer subconsciously. Lance shrugged his shoulders, attempting to play it cool. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

“You guess?” Hunk challenged, lifting his eyebrows. “She seemed to be under the impression it was amazing. Did it not go well?”

“No, it was great.” Lance corrected hurriedly, clearing his throat. He walked over to the small designated employee break room, kicking his feet up and lying back on the couch. Hunk’s eyes never left him the whole time, still waiting for answers.

He understood why, he’d always been completely honest with Hunk in the past about his romantic endeavors. It got to the point that sometimes Hunk was telling him that he shared too much too often, but he was always still willing to listen. Lance admired that about Hunk so much, it felt like a shame not to confide in him now.

In a strange way, it was almost better that Hunk didn’t know the full story for once. He had no idea about how messy Lance’s real relationship with Keith was, how they’d really met, what they were really doing last night. With all of those details out of the picture, Lance had the perfect platform to talk about the most important one.

“I think I _like_ him, Hunk, I really do.” Lance said, his voice hushed like he couldn’t bear to say the words at his usual volume. It was both a blessing and a curse to get the suspicion off his chest, and saying it out loud only made it even more obvious that the feelings really were there. He rolled over, burying his face into the arm of the couch and screeching.

“Good!” Hunk laughed, walking over and prying Lance’s body out of the cushions, wrapping him up in a hug instead. Lance allowed it just this once, making sure his hands were well out of reach. “God, I am so happy to hear that again. I never thought I’d miss you talking about your love life, but have I ever.”

Lance laughed along with him, until Hunk set him back on the ground and he had a chance to process what his friend had said. The reminder of how long it’d been since Lance had caught feelings for anyone, the reminder of why that was… it all added up to the same conclusion Lance had already reached. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t be with Keith.

So confirming how he felt did him no good, only made the absence in his life feel even bigger. He turned away from Hunk, going over to pick up the list of deliveries he had to make today. Hunk followed after him, clearly picking up on the way Lance was so quick to close himself off.

“Lance? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just… we can’t be together, me and Keith.” Lance explained, trying to make his voice sound stern. He didn’t want reassurance, he didn’t want Hunk to try and convince him otherwise. He knew the reality of his situation, he had from the moment he’d been turned. Being with another person would run the constant risk of turning them into what he was; a monster. Lance couldn’t risk doing that to anyone, let alone someone he cared so deeply about.

“Why not?”

“We’re on very different pages of the relationship. We want different things.” Lance mumbled, omitting just enough of the truth for it to be passable. “And the things I want… I just can’t have.”

“Stop being annoyingly vague.” Hunk said flatly, leaving no room for argument. Lance had no intentions of arguing anyway, there was no argument to be had. He’d already made up his mind, nothing Hunk could say would change it. He couldn’t risk hurting Keith like this. Not in a million years.

So Lance turned away, heading toward the door with burning eyes and his hands in fists. He couldn’t look back at Hunk, not knowing the pained and worried expression he’d see on his friends face. He’d have to lie to him, give him a reason that just wasn’t the truth.

Lance was halfway out the door when Hunk’s hand clamped onto his shoulder, yanking him back into the building. He didn’t turn Lance around though, no doubt knowing from experience that Lance would be sniveling and attempting to hide his face right about now. How pathetic. “Talk to me.”

“He deserves better.” Lance croaked, reaching up to hide his face in his hands. Hunk sighed deeply behind him, arms slowly wrapping around his middle. It wasn’t even the usual squeezing hug that Hunk was known for, just a soft hold.

“Oh, Lance.” Hunk sighed into Lance’s hair, holding him as he cried. “You can’t make that decision for him, you know? Maybe in his eyes, you’re the best thing he’s ever had.”

Lance lifted his head, drawing a deep breath to calm himself. He wiped the last of his tears away, stepping away from Hunk and then looking back at him. He wasn’t crying any longer, but whatever was displayed on his face must have been equally or even more-so worrisome. Hunk’s frown only seemed to deepen. Lance forced a smile.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, you know.” Lance forced a humorless laugh, thinking of how cruel it’d be if Keith truly felt the same, if Keith wanted him the same way Lance did. It would be so much worse, to come that close to the happiness he’d been chasing after for years, to feel that connection he’d dreamed of and not be able to _act_ on it. All because of one stupid mistake that resulted in his entire life ruined.

\--

Keith cracked the front door open, peering inside the dark hallway to confirm no one was waiting just inside. He slipped into the house then, coughing into his fist as he stepped out of his shoes. He crept around the corner, sights set on getting back to his room unnoticed. He made it most of the way there, before a long sigh sounded behind him.

Shit.

“Keith, what the hell is this?” Shiro grumbled, marching up behind him and grabbing him by the hood of the sweater. Keith went willingly, too focused on trying to hide the limp in his step to put up a fight. Shiro hauled him into the living room and turned the lights on, preparing for a proper interrogation lecture by the looks of it.

Keith settled precariously on the arm of his usual chair, staring dully up at Shiro’s furious gaze. “What did you do?”

“Got in a fight.” Keith said simply, stubbornly holding on to the idea that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Even as Shiro grabbed his jaw and tilted his head from side-to-side, carefully inspecting the injuries already covering his cheeks and jaw. Keith winced a little bit, but otherwise he did his best not to react.

“With who?”

“Some kids at the bar. Total a-holes.” Keith scoffed, petulantly refusing to look Shiro in the eye. He was doing a pretty good job until Shiro pointedly pressed his thumb into a bruise on Keith’s cheekbone, at which point Keith yelped and swatted his hand away.

Shiro took a step back, raking his eyes over his dishevelled appearance. The disappointment in his gaze was palpable.

“Did we stumble into some alternate universe where you’re back to your edgy sixteen year-old self or is there something going on?” Shiro asked, as he turned to leave the room. This left Keith alone with the question, forced to actually put some thought into his answer. He’d learned Shiro’s overprotective brother methods long ago, yet they still managed to get under his skin. He’d been purposely trying to keep himself busy for weeks now, never alone with his feelings until this very moment where he’d been asked to dwell on them.

Keith buried his face in his hands, exhaling shakily. This was stupid, all of it. Why couldn’t Shiro just yell at him and send him off to bed like all the siblings in movies? Why did he have to care so damn much?

Shiro returned to the room with a small first aid kit in hand, lips set in a tight line. Keith immediately opened his mouth to protest and Shiro shot him a glare, silently pointing toward an easier to access chair. Keith settled into it, frowning all the while as Shiro kneeled in front of him and started digging through their supplies.

It’d been a long time since he’d come home looking like this, but he still remembered the routine like the back of his hand. Shiro was endlessly patient with him, to the point that it made him feel guilty enough to confess what was really bothering him by the end of the first aid session. Not this time though, he would bite his tongue so hard not a word would leave his mouth.

“I’m just gonna clean you up a little bit.” Shiro said, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab. Keith watched with an unimpressed stare.

“I don’t need-”

“Don’t argue with me.” Shiro snapped, his voice short and clipped. Keith’s shoulders slumped, the will to fight once again leaving his body. He’d already had the shit kicked out of him once tonight, yet the feeling of Shiro’s confused disappointment hurt worse. It always did.

Fighting was the easy part, he didn’t have to think at all, it came naturally to him. One swing after the other, a dodge, a parry, whatever he had to do to come out on top. It didn’t matter how much he got hurt in the process, he didn’t give up until he’d won. It never solved his problems, but it was a damn good distraction from them. It worked when he was younger and it worked now, right up until Shiro intervened afterward and forced him to think.

Shiro was gentle as he cleaned him up, disinfecting and bandaging the wounds. Considering Shiro’s experience with the army, he knew a thing or two about taking care of wounds. Keith remembered vividly all the fights he’d gotten into while Shiro was gone, how he’d tried to look after himself and only really ended up shoving Spongebob band-aids all over his face.

He was glad Shiro was back, even if the idiot insisted on making him think about the consequences of his actions.

After Shiro finished up, he got to his feet and went to put the supplies away. If Keith was a little younger and a lot more rebellious like he used to be, he would have tried to take off while Shiro was out of the room. His brother always caught him anyway, though. And right about now he just didn’t have the will to try it.

So he waited in the same chair until Shiro walked back into the room, sitting across from him. “Have you thought about your answer?”

In truth, Keith had thought a lot about his answer. He’d made up his mind only to change it yet again at least twenty times over. He debated so many things. He could tell Shiro everything, come clean about the whole situation he found himself in and ask for advice. He could come up with a lie, a story that Shiro would believe that’d resemble something that used to bother him when he was younger. He could maybe even try… being honest.

Because in all reality, Shiro didn’t need to know the specifics to understand what was bothering Keith.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Keith blurted, jumping to his feet. He slapped his hands against his thighs, laughing awkwardly before he turned to leave. It was beyond obvious that he was floundering a little bit, struggling to decide what he wanted to share and if he even could. “I’m going to bed!”

Keith made it all the way to his bed without being called to that damned interrogation chair, which meant that at least Shiro wasn’t genuinely mad at him. Just worried.

Keith hunkered down under the covers, head settling on the pillow and eyes focusing on the plane of his wall. He studied the posters covering the surface, trying to focus on literally anything to take his mind off of the feeling in his chest. The lump rising in his throat. The tears stinging behind his eyes. God, he was right back to being an angsty sixteen year old, Shiro was right.

Shiro was always right.

Speaking of Shiro, he could hear his older brother’s footsteps as he headed down the hallway toward his own room. They hesitated outside of Keith’s room, no doubt debating whether to check up on him, before promptly continuing on. Keith sat up in bed, hands curling into fists.

“Shiro! Come here!”

Shiro was wrenching his door open in an instant, concern written across every single one of his features as he looked into the room. Upon seeing the expression on Keith’s face, he didn’t even wait to be invited into the room before crossing the threshold. He settled on the edge of Keith’s bed, smiling at him.

“What’s up?”

“You know how Matt and Allura are getting to be pretty good friends now? And you third-wheel with them every once in a while?” Keith mumbled, staring down at the bedspread. He really was such a mess without Shiro around, how had he looked after himself for so long on his own?

“Yes?”

“Has Allura said anything about... what Lance has been up to?” Keith asked shyly, no doubt in his mind that his cheeks were positively on fire. If Shiro made fun of him right about now, Keith was gonna sock him square in the jaw and start his second fight of the night.

And there it was, out in the open; the reason Keith had been so moody and upset lately was all over one stupid boy. A boy, that unbeknownst to everyone else, Keith had never even been genuinely dating. It was all one big lie and now it didn’t feel like a lie anymore and Keith was panicking.

Lance hadn’t reached out to him _once_ since. Sure, he understood that at the time they’d only gone out together out of necessity, because Pidge gave them no other option. But throughout the night they’d definitely bonded at least enough to catch a platonic meal or have a group hang-out with friends or at _least_ text each other. They weren’t sworn enemies anymore, Keith didn’t want Lance dead, so why the sudden drop off the face of the Earth?

And sure, Keith _could_ just text him first, but what if Lance didn’t feel the same? What if Lance didn’t think of that night as a bonding moment at all? What if Lance still thought of him as nothing more than a cover-up? A necessity to the lie?

Oh, how awkward that would be, considering just how much Keith thought of Lance.

“Oh, is that what this is about?” Shiro asked, sounding almost relieved. Keith shot him a glare, uncertain how else to express that it was a much bigger deal than Shiro was making it out to be. This had been bothering him for weeks now.

Keith wasn’t the type to click well with other people on his own, he was an introvert through and through. All of his friends he’d been introduced to through Shiro, and then through those friends. He never made friends on his own. So to say that his love life was poor would be an understatement. No matter how many boys his friends attempted to introduce him to, that just wasn’t the type of thing you could force to happen. The spark had to be there from the get-go.

And, well, he just thought... he really thought there’d been a spark that night, that was all.

“Has she said anything or not?” Keith snapped, feeling defensive. Shiro looked at him for a long moment, before settling a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

“I’ve actually seen Lance a couple of times since he came over that night.”

“ _What_?”

“Yeah, when you’re in class or at the gym, Matt will sometimes order pizza here and Lance will deliver it to us. He’s a nice kid.” Shiro explained, watching Keith closely for a reaction. Any other time Keith would be extra careful to keep a pokerface, make it impossible for Shiro to deduce any information he wasn’t readily sharing, but right then he was too distracted to think of it. Lance had been to his house while he wasn’t home? Yet he hadn’t texted even once?

Shiro shushed him gently, no doubt sensing the breakdown Keith was about to have. “He’s probably waiting to hear from you just as much as you’re waiting to hear from him.”

“He’s not.” Keith said decisively, a quiet sigh following. If Lance had been here since that night then there was no way he was simply too forgetful or too busy to reach out. He must not have wanted to.

“He is.” Shiro insisted, poking one of Keith’s bruises. “I know how these things work, Keith. Believe it or not, I’ve been on a date or two in my lifetime.”

Keith bit his lip, silently debating just how bad of an idea it’d be to be the first to call. Worst case scenario he could just play it off as checking up on Lance, making sure he hadn’t done anything questionable lately. That’d backtrack their progress though, especially when Keith had been so determined to make Lance believe that there was trust between them. Keith did trust Lance, he really did.

But the only reason he had to reach out was the whole zombie thing, at least if Lance truly thought there was nothing else between them.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what? Call him?”

“Want him.” Keith muttered, hands curling into fists in his lap. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Keith.”

“It won’t work out, Shiro, I know it won’t.” Keith sighed, eyes flickering toward the window. “I don’t even care if we get together, you know? I just want to stay in his life, even if it’s just as a friend. But if he wanted the same, he would have reached out by now.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, you haven’t even given it a fighting chance yet.” Shiro muttered, giving Keith an encouraging shove. He grabbed Keith’s phone off the bedside table and tossed it into his lap. Keith looked up, watching as Shiro backed out of the room. “Call him. You might be surprised.”

\--

After realizing what was going on with his feelings for Keith, Lance made a vow not to let them get any worse. He wouldn’t be the first to reach out, he wouldn’t become clingy like he usually did when he caught feelings, and he wouldn’t even entertain the idea that it might work out in the end. There was nothing going on between them, just a strange tangled web of lies, and the fact that Keith hadn’t reached out to him since that night just solidified that fact.

They were brought together out of convenience, and now it was no longer convenient.

It was fine. It had to be fine, there was no other option. Lance had been through worse things this year than a dumb infatuation that didn’t work out. He’d pull through it. It’d be a little awkward with how many mutual friends they had, but whatever. It was fine.

It was fine right up until Keith’s contact name flashed on his phone screen with an incoming call.

At which point Lance was hit with the sudden and overwhelming realization that not only was it not fine now, it’d actually never been fine at all.

He ran about his apartment, wearing the same pajamas he had been all day long. His days off consisted of mainly laying on the couch and crying lately, so this was an unwelcome break in his routine. It took him a few rings before he worked up the nerve to press the button and answer the call.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith asked, his voice unsure like he might have somehow gotten the wrong number. How cute was that? Lance swallowed roughly, silently scolding himself for thinking like that.

“What’s up?” Lance said, in his most casual voice he could muster up. It was low and indifferent, like a frat boy talking to a bro. He started to rethink his approach when he was met with silence on the other end of the call. He started to panic, wondering if maybe he’d sounded _too_ casual and indifferent. “Keith? You still there?”

“Pidge wants us to go on another date.” The words were said so quickly and clumsily that it took Lance a while to unravel what had actually been uttered. He processed it slowly, taking a few seconds to clue in to what was going on.

Even then, he found himself feeling confused.

“What? Why?”

“She’s suspicious. Says we don’t do enough things together as a couple.” Keith explained, clearing his throat. He was speaking slower now, easier to understand and less panicked. If he was talking like it was this urgent then Pidge must have been really suspicious. “I think I even heard her whispering about the z-word the other day.”

“You’re kidding.” Lance whispered, anxiety rising in his chest for an entirely different reason than his pseudo crush. If Pidge found out about him, he had no idea what he’d do. She might tell all of his friends, ruin the few relationships he was somehow managing to keep alive. “I’ve seen her a couple times since and she seemed really convinced we were together. She wouldn’t shut-up about it, actually.”

“Nope, she’s definitely skeptical.” Keith confirmed, not going into detail about what exactly had set her off this time. Lance didn’t bother to ask. Given everything Hunk had said about how smart and intuitive Pidge was, she would probably start to wonder if they said even one thing that might seem unbelievable.

If she found out that were fake-dating she’d surely look into it more, then she’d get answers that were even more revealing. Lance shivered in fear just thinking about it.

“Okay, what should we do?” Lance asked, settling into one of the chairs at his kitchen table and beginning to nervously tap his fingertips against the surface. There was another long pause on the other end of the call, but Lance was starting to understand why. Perhaps Keith was freaking out right now too at the thought of being caught in their lie.

“I was thinking we could... _go to dinner_? And send her a picture of us together?” Keith suggested, voice strained like he’d just been holding his breath. Lance furrowed his eyebrows.

“You think that’ll be enough to throw her off the trail this time?” Lance asked, his voice hopeful. Keith hummed his affirmation. Lance nodded slowly, sorting everything out in his head. “Did you have a place in mind?”

“That pasta restaurant everyone’s always raving about.” Keith answered immediately, no hesitation at all this time. Lance nearly choked on his own saliva.

“That place is _expensive_ , you wanna convince Pidge that we’re dating or that you’re the best boyfriend of all time!? I don’t think we need to go _that_ above and beyond.” Lance wheezed, feeling lightheaded just imagining the kind of bill he’d have to pay walking away from a place like that.

Of course he didn’t want to be found out, but he was willing to bet there were cheesier cliche things they could do on a cheaper budget to convince Pidge they were really dating. Hell, he’d pretend-propose to Keith in public sooner than he’d pay that much money for one meal. He was a broke university student on a budget.

“I already booked reservations. I’ll pay.” Keith said simply, like there shouldn’t have been any questioning of that in the first place. Lance flushed, wondering to himself if this would be Keith on an actual date, always offering to pay and making the plans.

Keith misinterpreted his silence, beginning to ramble. “Sorry, it was an impulsive thing when Pidge started asking about us. I can cancel if you-”

“I’m not complaining if you’re not complaining, I’ll show.” Lance blurted, without putting any thought into it really. He should have been complaining, he really should have.

A private romantic dinner with someone for the sake of a lie was a lot dumber of a commitment than meeting up in the park in nice clothes to take a quick photo with them. If he caught feelings on that first night, then who knows if he’ll really be able to handle sitting through a whole dinner with Keith and playing pretend with his real feelings.

Still, he’d already gave his word. “I really wish food actually tasted as good as it used to, I always wanted someone to take me there.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven? Um, on Friday?” Keith prompted, bringing up the time before the actual day of the week like the idiot he was. Lance snorted. God, he was just too adorable for his own good.

“Sounds good.” Lance laughed, only realizing once they’d ended the call that Keith had no idea where he lived. At which point he texted Keith the address, making sure to tease him a little bit for forgetting to ask in the first place. Despite knowing for a fact that Keith was only acting so jittery and flustered because he was worried about being found out, Lance couldn’t help but think about how Keith would probably act similarly if he were asking someone on a real date.

That thought brought Lance both comfort and pain, bittersweet in the way that he longed for it.

\--

Keith just asked Lance on a date.

He actually did it.

Lance even said yes!

God, the relief and excitement Keith felt after ending that call was tangible. He felt like he was on cloud nine, the nervous butterflies in his stomach all taking off at once and giving him the unique sensation of flying. In a few day’s time he would be eating dinner with Lance at a fancy restaurant, after weeks without contact.

There was just one teensy weensy thing that Keith might have done a little bit wrong. Lying about Pidge being on their tail and using her as an excuse to ask Lance out again wasn’t his proudest moment, but he’d choked! He couldn’t help it.

He’d tell Lance the truth when the date night came around, he was sure of that much. He just needed that crutch to lean on as he worked up the courage to put himself out there and invite Lance out. But once they got to the date and started talking, it’d be much easier to bring up his feelings.

As it was, Keith was too excited to stay sitting in bed and instead rushed to Shiro’s door. He pounded his fist against the wood until he heard shuffling on the other side.

“Shiro! Hurry up!” Shiro pulled the door back a moment later, a scowl on his face until he caught a glimpse of Keith’s huge smile. His own lips quirked up slightly at that, curiosity glinting in his eyes. Keith surged forward and hugged him. “I have a date!”

“Lance?” Shiro asked, a little breathlessly as he trailed off into a yawn.

“Yeah.” Keith confirmed hurriedly, nodding his head. “I called him.”

“I’m happy for you, Keith.” Shiro sighed, pulling Keith into a playful headlock and mussing up his hair just like they did when they were kids. Keith was too thrilled to even get upset with him for it. “What did I tell you? He was probably just waiting for you to call this whole time.”

“Yeah, I guess he was.” Keith laughed, squirming out of his brother’s hold. “Oh, also? Can you do me a favor?”

“What? Don’t tell me you want help picking out your outfit again, last time was bad enough.”

“No, nothing like that.” Keith laughed, an embarrassed flush covering his face. “I might have told Lance that I had reservations at Pasta Palace for Friday night, you don’t think you could-”

“ _Keith_.” Shiro groaned, slapping his hands to his face, “did you just panic and lie to him the entire time you were on call? Did you even tell him it was meant to be a date or did you just ask him to go out to dinner as friends?”

Keith shifted from one foot to the other, diligently refusing to look his brother in the eye. That hit a little close to home because Shiro wasn’t wrong. Lance didn’t even know this was supposed to be a _real_ date.

“Will you just do me this favor? I won’t get a chance to sort everything out with him if I don’t get this reservation somehow.” Keith pleaded shamelessly, even clasping his hands together. “Can you get me a table? Please? You’re like the hero of the town, they won’t turn you down.”

Shiro pulled his phone out, turning to disappear back into his room.

“I’m only doing this so I don’t have to put up with you moping around the house over this boy, I hope you know that. You _know_ I don’t like pulling the small-town celebrity card.”

\--

Friday night rolled around no matter how much Lance came to dread it. More than once he debated cancelling, throwing the towel in and admitting that he just couldn’t do it. It would be too much, sitting through the perfect dinner with the perfect guy and knowing it would never be attainable to him. The only thing that kept him from it was the knowledge that it’d be throwing Keith under the bus, that they both were invested in this lie now and needed Pidge to believe it.

It’d be selfish to cancel on him now and risk Pidge realizing something was up between them.

So when Friday night rolled around, Lance went through the same motions of getting ready for a big date that he always had before. It was a little therapeutic, to revisit one of the many routines of his life that’d been lost after he got turned. This was his first date in a long while and there was a good chance it might be his last if he didn’t get a cure sorted out.

It might be one of his last anythings if he didn’t get a cure sorted out, come to think of it. Keith may have taken back what he’d said in the beginning about Lance needing to turn himself in, but Lance couldn’t dismiss that idea so quickly. He’d killed two people now, and as far as he was concerned that was two people too many. Even if he never hurt another soul, just the knowledge that he did that much had him wondering if he really deserved to be walking free.

He exhaled, resurfacing from beneath the bathwater he’d been relaxing in. He blinked his eyes open, reaching out of the water and checking the time on his phone. Keith was due to be there in about an hour, he had plenty of time to finish getting ready. He sunk back down into the water, leaving only his face above the surface.

When he woke up again, it was to the sound of the doorbell ringing through his apartment. He bolted upright in the water, eyes going wide as he realized he’d dozed off. Damn it, it’d been too long since he’d last eaten something if he was back to needing sleep.

He rubbed his hands across his face, stumbling out of the tub and pulling his robe around his body. As he rushed out of the room, he caught a glimpse of his curly unruly hair and nearly hissed in disgust, but he had no time to do anything about it now.

He rushed to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open in one quick motion.

Keith stood there patiently on the other side, eyes staring down at the welcome mat until he heard the door open. He lifted his head then, grinning widely as his eyes found Lance’s. Lance simply stared, his chest clenching uncomfortably at the sight.

Keith was wearing a damn tux, complete with a red tie tied into a terrible knot. His hair had grown out even longer since they’d last seen each other and he looked tired, like he’d been losing sleep stressing over things lately. Lance hoped it wasn’t worrying on his behalf because of the whole zombie thing.

Lance coughed, stepping out of the doorway.

“Hey, come in.” He greeted, smiling back.

Keith stepped into the room, eyes raking over Lance’s disheveled bathrobe appearance and no doubt wondering when he was going to be getting ready. Lance was just about to explain himself and then go get ready when Keith’s hands came around from behind his back, an awkward cough following the reveal of the bouquet in his hands. Lance paused. “Are those... for me?”

“Um, yes.” Keith explained, thrusting them outward. Lance chuckled, carefully accepting them and holding them up to his face. He inhaled deeply, a dopey satisfied smile on his face. No one had ever given him flowers before.

“Keith, you didn’t have to do that.” Lance whispered quietly, looking over at Keith with a lopsided little smirk. Keith shrugged his shoulders in dismissal, averting his eyes to look around the apartment some more, taking note of his surroundings. Lance shook his head, walking over to the kitchen to begin his search for a vase. “No one’s gonna see these anyway, no one ever comes over to my place anymore.”

“You’ll see them.” Keith commented from somewhere closer than he’d been before. Lance paused, hand wrapped around a vase, his eyes widening. When Keith had to go and say things like that, it made it all the more difficult to accept that none of this was real.

Lance got back to his feet, pointedly keeping his back turned to Keith as he set up the vase.

“I guess I could take a photo to post on social media, maybe even tag you in it.” Lance mumbled, biting his lip. He tapped his fingers on the countertop, attempting to bring himself back into character. That’s all this was, an elaborate act. “Pidge would see that, the internet is her domain. She sees all.”

“Yeah.” Keith agreed, coming up beside Lance at the counter. Lance gulped, the feeling of Keith’s eyes on him incredibly distracting. He looked over at him, quirking an eyebrow expectantly. Keith spluttered, gaze flickering away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, you just look nice.”

Lance froze, both of his eyebrows crawling toward his hairline now. He blinked rapidly, the tension between them fading by the second and giving way to their natural bond.

“Keith, are you okay?” Lance giggled hysterically, reaching over to punch him in the shoulder. Keith recoiled, but the clumsy smile on his face was nothing short of awed that he’d managed to make Lance laugh so hard. “What do you mean I look _nice_ ?! This is my _bathrobe_. I’m not finished getting ready, you idiot!”

“Oh.” Keith blurted, before promptly beginning to laugh as well. He reached up, scratching at the back of his neck. “Well, whatever, you still look nice.”

“Your standards are way too low, you know that?” Lance sighed, brushing past Keith and patting him on the shoulder as he went. Keith followed behind him, like a lost puppy.

“I mean, I don’t think so.” Keith said, his voice sly. Lance paused, nearly tripping over his own feet. He glanced back at Keith, scowling at him. What was _with him_ tonight? He was nowhere near this flirty last time. In fact, Lance was pretty sure he’d tried to lighten the mood by flirting then and been shut down hard, so what was this about?

“Just wait until you see the outfit I’m wearing to dinner.” Lance countered, puffing his chest out pridefully and stepping closer to Keith. Two could play at this strange game of back and forth, Lance had always been a big flirt, he could step up to the plate. “I figured where you were pulling out all the stops, so I chose _the_ _best_ outfit in my closet.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Keith replied, eyes wide and invested, voice genuine and soft. There was no innuendo, no smooth line, no flirty drawl. He just sounded earnest in his excitement. Lance stumbled backward toward his room, thrown for a loop yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna go... get dressed.” Lance explained, pressing his back against his bedroom door. Keith glanced away from the painting on the wall to nod at Lance. Lance didn’t like the way he was looking at him, all smiles and starry eyes, it was a little overwhelming how into it Keith was getting tonight. So he decided to attempt to try and avert the attention. “I’ll try not to take too long, you know, seeing as I already made us so late already.”

“It’s fine, Lance,” the words left Keith’s mouth as soon as Lance finished speaking, like the thought of leaving him without comforting for even a second too long was unbearable, “we have a private table reserved outside for as late as we want. They’re not gonna give it away on us.”

“How did you manage that?” Lance gasped, unable to stop the slack-jawed look of awe. He’d been shocked to hear that Keith had gotten reservations for that soon at all, but to hear they were being personally catered to was unbelievable.

Keith didn’t answer him either, just gave a smug little smirk and shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. It was a very big deal, but Lance wasn’t going to react because that’d just be inviting more flirting. Instead Lance slipped into his room then, digging through his closet for literally anything worth wearing because in reality he hadn’t put much thought into his outfit at all until Keith had shown up in a suit.

He found a black button-up with lace detailing, something he’d probably intended to wear out clubbing or on an extra special extra real date, but it’s not like he owned a suit or anything half as nice as what Keith was wearing. So he put the damn special shirt on, begrudgingly accepting that he’d never have another place to wear it to anyway.

After raiding his closet for the rest of his nice outfit and hurriedly smudging some make-up and product over his face and into his hair, he dubbed himself slightly-better-looking-than-normally and left the room as anticlimactically as he could.

At some point Keith had walked over to sit on his couch, but upon hearing Lance’s bedroom door open he stumbled to his feet and turned to look at him. Lance gulped. “Well, here I am.”

“Wow.” Keith breathed out, looking Lance over with a fond look on his face. He shook his head, like he was the one who couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You look amazing.”

“Thank-you.” Lance blurted, grabbing his wallet off the counter just in case and heading toward the front door. He had to get out of this damned apartment and breathe some fresh air into his system before his mind short-circuited and he did something really stupid. Keith wasn’t making it easy on him to hide how he really felt. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Keith answered easily, hurrying along to catch up to him. They made it all the way out to the parking lot without another word thanks to Lance’s long legs keeping him well ahead of Keith, but it was inevitable that he had to let the other boy catch up. He didn’t even know what vehicle Keith had driven here.

So Keith switched into leading the way then, straight over to the edge of the parking lot where he marched up to a… motorcycle. Go figure.

“A bike?” Lance prompted, gesturing toward it. Keith nodded, pulling two helmets off the handlebars and distributing them between them both.

“Is that okay?” Keith asked, noticing the look on Lance’s face. Lance wasn’t sure exactly how to tell him that the problem was just how very okay he was with that. He’d always wanted to date a guy with a motorcycle, the romantic comedies he watched had always made it out to be so fun. Damn it, Keith, would it kill you to drive a station wagon or something? Do literally anything unattractive to make this loss easier?

“Yeah, but I’m gonna need to borrow those heavy looking gloves I’ve seen you wear before. I don’t want to scratch you while I’m hanging on for dear life.” Lance explained, holding out his hands expectantly.

“Okay.” Keith hurriedly grabbed the gloves and handed them over, even going so far as to try and slip them onto Lance’s hands himself. When that inevitably failed horribly, they both ended up laughing at Keith’s blunder together again. “You can wear my jacket too.”

“I’m not really cold?” Lance laughed, though he accepted the bulky leather jacket that Keith had left on the seat. He wasn’t sure how much sense it made for Keith to wear such a thing when he had a suit on either, but the thought that Keith might have brought it specifically for him to wear on the back of the bike was just too much for Lance’s mind to process.

“You will be once we get moving.”

“Yeah, but then wouldn’t _you_ be cold?” Lance questioned, a subtle way of asking why he’d brought a jacket in the first place. Keith politely didn’t offer an answer. Lance sighed, pointing back to his apartment complex. “I can just go grab my own sweater.”

“No, it’s fine.” Keith insisted hurriedly, taking the jacket back from Lance’s hands and holding it up for him to slip into. Lance hesitated, before slowly slipping his arms in and snuggling back into the fabric, wrinkling his nose at the utter cliche of it all. Keith had to have planned this. Maybe there was a risk of Pidge seeing them together and he just wanted to be prepared in case that happened? None of this was making any sense.

Lance huffed in confusion, slipping onto the back of the bike as soon as Keith had settled. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s middle, going willingly as Keith carefully urged them a little bit lower. Lance rested his chin on Keith’s shoulder, snickering to himself. “If this was an actual date, you would be terrible at this.”

“Why?” Keith asked, urgency leaching into his voice. He turned to look at Lance, knocking their helmets together in the process. Lance yelped, leaning back and silently thanking his lucky stars they hadn’t started the bike yet because that impact may have caused him to fall off if it were moving.

“You’re just… so blunt.” Lance laughed, shaking his head as he attempted to cradle his head through the helmet. Keith wound his body around at an awkward angle now, looking back at Lance with a concerned expression.

Getting the impression that Keith didn’t exactly go on a lot of dates and probably worried about things like how good he was at them, Lance was quick to reassure him. “It’s fine, I’m sure some people find that endearing.”

“Are you one of them?” Keith asked without missing a single beat, without giving Lance a second to prepare himself. Lance spluttered slightly, giving an uneasy laugh and expecting Keith to join him. He didn’t, just kept on staring at Lance with an expectant quirk to his lips and a warmth in his eyes that Lance couldn’t quite place.

“S-Sometimes.” Lance mumbled, averting his eyes. Apparently satisfied with that answer, Keith turned around and started up the bike. At the first roar of the engine, Lance found himself grappling to anchor himself even closer to Keith’s bike, exhaling shakily. Now it was Keith’s turn to laugh, loud and amused, and somehow _soft_. God, Lance could listen to that laugh all day.

The restaurant wasn’t all that far away from Lance’s apartment in reality, but time seemed to pass by so quickly on their trip there that he almost felt cheated. He decided early on that riding on a motorcycle was just as fun as the movies made it out to be.

However, his disappointment toward the quick ride there was short-lived when they got into the restaurant and led to their table. It was a private balcony all to themselves and it had Lance asking Keith ten times over if he could really afford to pay for all of this. Keith just kept laughing at him and shoving the menu into his hands, insisting that he order something.

After getting their food, Lance reached his second realization of the night and that was that no other food on this Earth tasted as good as what he was eating right now. He was making an ass out of himself, unable to keep from vocalizing just how great he found the food every time he swallowed another bite, but Keith didn’t seem bothered.

“How’s your food?” Keith asked finally, after listening to Lance moan after every bite.

“I think this is the best anything has tasted since that night, you know that?” Lance groaned, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. The only upside to the fact that this wasn’t a real date was that he didn’t have to pretend to be coy, didn’t have to pick at his food and focus more on the conversation. He ate quickly and with big portions, not letting a bite go to waste.

He expected Keith to join him in that, especially after seeing what an appetite he had that morning at breakfast. He didn’t though, he just ordered a small plate and took the odd bite, mostly just silently watching Lance eat. Maybe Lance was grossing him out. Maybe he was having war flashbacks to the night where he’d caught Lance eating a person. Lance couldn’t decipher the look on Keith’s face for the life of him but he wasn’t going to let it keep him from enjoying this food.

“So you like it?”

“Keith, I love it. I’m going to propose to the whole menu.” Lance announced boldly, kissing his fingertips to signify just how scrumptious it truly was. Keith laughed quietly, like he somehow found even those dramatics funny rather than annoying. “It doesn’t fill me up any, but it tastes _so much_ stronger than anything else I’ve eaten lately.”

“You can order more.” Keith blurted, noticing that Lance’s plate was almost empty. Lance looked between his plate and his “ _date_ ”, an odd little smile working across his lips.

“You can’t just say stuff like that or I’m gonna be proposing to you next.” Lance giggled, his voice hushed. Keith laughed, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he grabbed the discarded menu and slid it back over to Lance’s side of the table.

“You said it wasn’t filling you up and you’re enjoying eating it.” Keith said it simply, like that was all that mattered and not all the money that was no doubt piling up on the bill. Lance shot him a skeptical look, but he accepted the menu all the same and started to flip through again.

“Where do you even work? The mafia?”

“I do odd jobs, mostly mechanic repairs.” Keith explained, toying with his fork around the noodles on his plate. Lance stared at him in confusion, trying to add up how he earned enough money from odd jobs to spend a retirement fund’s worth of money on pasta. Okay, at this point he might have been exaggerating the slightest bit, but still! It was a lot of money!

Noticing Lance’s wide-eyed look, Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at him. “Shiro pays all the bills with his retirement funds from the Garrison, I can spend my money on luxury things.”

“Fair enough.” Lance mumbled, setting the menu down. He looked over at Keith, winking. “I’m a luxury few can afford.”

The reference went straight over Keith’s head by the look of it, but he nodded along agreeably all the same. Lance rolled his eyes, wondering how he’d gotten to the point where he found obliviousness and aloofness to be so cute. He went back to eating, quietly requesting a couple more platefuls when the waiter came back around. Keith lit up at that, like he’d been just hoping Lance would spend more of his money for him.

“Okay, I can physically feel my belly distending, I think I’ve eaten more than any being should realistically consume.” Lance laughed, getting to his feet. Keith had finished long ago, so he was quick to join him. They’d gotten the bill already, so Keith went up to the counter to pay for everything while Lance purposely held back. He didn’t even want to know how much money he’d just eaten through.

To Keith’s credit, he somehow managed to keep his voice void of regret even as he strode back over to Lance with receipt in pocket. Lance led the way out of the restaurant, pausing by the fountain in the front lobby and looking inside at all the pennies. He fished one out of his own pocket, casting Keith a quick look before tossing it into the water.

He silently wished with all he had that he’d find a cure soon, soon enough that maybe he could really pursue something like this with Keith. It’d be a little bit weird all things considered, they hadn’t had the most normal of starts, but it’d be worth it. He’d find a way to make it work if he were human, he knew he would.

“Where do you wanna go now?” Keith asked, settling on the edge of the fountain. Lance sat down next to him and fished his phone out, clearing his throat.

“We could take the photo here? Then head home?” Lance suggested reluctantly, deciding that it was the best option. As much as he’d love to spend the whole evening with Keith, walking around the city and just talking to him, it wasn’t sustainable. The more time he spent with the guy the harder his feelings were to ignore, the more they doubled and tripled in size. He couldn’t do this all night and not have it blow up in his face.

That’s what he repeated to himself over and over again as he watched Keith’s fall in disappointment, smile wiped from his lips at Lance’s subtle rejection.

“Right.” Keith agreed, leaning in close to Lance and getting ready for the photo. “Okay.”

Lance took a series of photos, deciding he’d decide afterward which ones looked the most convincing. As he snapped each photo Keith seemed to lean closer and closer, until Lance shifted so Keith’s head was just resting on his shoulder. He took another few photos then brought his phone back down, beginning to sort through them.

Keith shifted away, watching as each photo flicked past. When Lance reached the most recent photos, he realized he caught the exact moment Keith’s head had settled on his shoulder. Keith’s eyes were glancing up at him, a shy little smile on his face, a blush dusting his cheeks. Lance gulped, showing the photo to Keith with a forced laugh.

“It looks good! Really believable, right?” Lance beamed, watching as Keith studied the photo. “You’ve _mastered_ the fake heart-eyes thing.”

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” Keith asked suddenly, looking over at Lance with a hopeful smile. Lance hesitated, slowly lowering his phone back down to his lap.

“Do you remember what happened the last time we went for a walk?” He joked, in a desperate attempt to hide his uneasiness. Keith nodded once, closing in on himself and getting to his feet. Lance frowned, regret surging through him at the sight of Keith looking so dejected. He jumped to his feet, falling into step beside Keith. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.”

They rode on Keith’s bike to the nearest park, thankfully not the one they went to last time. It was a forest walking trail, far less populated but nicer views. Keith led the way for the first half of the trail by a few steps, before switching to a slower and slower pace until they were walking side-by-side again.

“I just remembered Pidge comes here sometimes really late at night to do research.” Keith blurted, shoving his hand in front of Lance. Lance paused, not taking another step and instead staring curiously at the hand held upright in front of him. “M-Maybe we should hold hands in case she shows up?”

“You’re joking, right?” Lance scoffed, forcing a few giggles for the sake of not offending Keith. He glanced over at the other boy, finding him to be pouting. He definitely didn’t seem like someone who had just cracked a joke or was looking to tease. “Keith? Was that a joke?”

“Yeah, obviously.” Keith huffed, marching ahead rather brutishly. Good job, Lance, you’ve gone and made him angry now. Lance sighed deeply, trailing after him and wondering what the hell was going on. Keith hadn’t been anywhere near this unpredictable the first time they’d gone one one of these dates. Sure, he was fiery and bold, his emotions were strong no matter what he was feeling, but usually they didn’t flip flop like this.

As much as he was glad they’d made progress, he almost preferred how things used to be.

Keith got a good ten paces ahead of him in no time and he showed no signs of wanting to slow down, but Lance was too concentrated to bother chasing after him. He was determined to figure out what was going on, if he’d potentially done something to cause Keith acting like this. Initially he’d dismissed it as general worry and panic over the thought of Pidge, but Keith had barely mentioned Pidge all night so that didn’t check out. No, most of the night Keith had just been focused on Lance, so it _had_ to be something he’d done.

When Lance couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong other than maybe being late getting ready and ordering so much food, the natural next step was to think if maybe there was something he hadn’t done that he was meant to. He wasn’t exactly the most educated on fake date etiquette, but he knew a thing or two about real dates. He’d made sure to compliment Keith’s outfit, he’d thanked him for the food, he’d listened while he was talking, made a few flirty comments to show he was into what was going on.

I mean, hell, it might as well have been a real date. Maybe that was the problem, maybe Lance was just acting too much like a genuine lover and Keith was starting to pick up on his feelings, oh no, that would be terrible. Lance’s mind stayed on that spiral for all of ten seconds before he was hit with the realization that Keith had done absolutely nothing to reject his advances all night, if anything he’d been the one to initiate half of them.

Oh.

_Oh._

“Keith?” Lance called, looking ahead and realizing Keith was so far gone he was out of sight around the next corner. Lance jogged ahead, turning the corner only to find Keith stopped at a bench to take a break. Lance walked over and stood behind him, taking a few deep breaths. He didn’t want to be short-breathed when they had this conversation. “Keith, is this an _actual_ date?”

Lance watched as Keith went rigid in his seat, sitting so upright that it looked unnatural. He shifted his hands around, fumbling with them in his lap. He looked up at Lance, tilting his head back and peering straight up at him.

“Uh, why do you ask?” Keith asked, cracking a thin smile. Lance sighed long and hard, lifting his hand and pressing his entire face into his palm.

“You’re the most awkward person I’ve ever met, you know that?” Lance muttered, trying to ignore the flutter of his own heart. Obviously Keith hadn’t come out and said it yet, but reading between the lines it definitely seemed like… _well_. There were only so many other things it could be and Keith was making no effort to deny this one.

Lance walked around to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. He stayed silent for a minute, thinking over his options and how he was supposed to approach this situation. Once the initial disbelief and excitement started to fade, Lance was reminded once again why he’d never been able to act on his own feelings. It didn’t matter if Keith liked him back, not when acting on those feelings came at such a great risk.

Lance glanced over at Keith, stifling a laugh at the state the other boy was in. He was fidgeting, biting his lip and picking at his nails, doing everything in his power not to look in Lance’s direction and somehow still failing at it. Lance patted the space next to him, giving a soothing sigh. “Come here.”

Keith glanced up at him, eyeing the offered seat for a long moment before sliding into it. Lance lifted his arm, carefully wrapping it around Keith’s shoulders and drawing him in close. Keith followed his lead, hesitantly placing his head on Lance’s chest.

“I should have said something.” Keith mumbled the words, but Lance heard them well enough with how close they were.

“You definitely should have.”

“I just couldn’t tell if you _wanted_ it to be an actual date or not.” Keith said quietly, in such a tentative voice that it made it abundantly clear that he still wasn’t sure what Lance wanted. It was a bit funny, considering Lance had thought he was being obvious about how he felt all night long. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You made me uncomfortable many times tonight by not clearing that up from the get-go.” Lance snorted, resting his cheek on the top of Keith’s head.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Lance dismissed quickly, not wanting him to dwell on it. He wasn’t really all that bothered by it, especially now that he realized what Keith had been going through the whole time. He thought back on the entire date, on how flustered and nervous Keith had been since the very moment he’d shown up at Lance’s door. He was trying so hard this whole time, bless his heart.

Lance tilted his head back, staring up at the clouds overhead. “ _So_ … you _like_ me?”

“Yeah.” Keith answered without hesitation, like he’d been waiting on the question to be asked. Maybe he’d expected Lance to clue in sooner than this. Regardless, the straight-faced certain way he admitted to his feelings was a little overwhelming. Lance had come to terms with how he felt a couple weeks ago now and he still couldn’t say it out loud like that.

“You realize I’m like… a zombie, right?” Lance snorted, confused how exactly someone like Keith could have such low standards for himself. Judging by the elbow Lance took to the ribs after that, Keith was very much aware of that fact and no, it wasn’t the dealbreaker it should have been for him.

“I realize you’re a zombie,” Keith huffed, “do you realize there’s more to you than that?”

“It’s kinda the most important thing right now.” Lance argued gently, but he wasn’t going to press the issue too much. He still had the vivid memories of what’d happened last time he’d tried to reason with Keith, the stubbornly supportive rant the other boy had launched onto. No, it was definitely better to just agree to disagree.

Lance quickly moved the conversation along, deciding to go straight for the kill. “You’re not gonna ask if I like you back?”

“Kinda scared of what the answer will be.” Keith replied, his composure surprisingly convincing if Lance didn’t know any better. He’d attempted to hide his own emotions often enough to know the telltale signs of when someone else was bottling things up. He heard it in Keith’s words, felt it in the way he leaned on Lance for support, watched it play out before his eyes as Keith scuffed his feet against the ground again and again until a little hole had been dug in the dirt.

“God, you’re adorable.” Lance breathed out, his voice pained no matter how he tried to just make it sound like the compliment it was. Keith glanced up, eyes wide and impressionable, imploring. Lance smiled thinly at him, nodding his head slowly to the unspoken question Keith was asking.

“Thank-you.” Keith answered then, sitting up a little bit straighter, that fiery determination returning to his eyes. He turned to face Lance, bringing his leg up onto the bench between them and resting his chin on his knee, making himself comfortable as he stared openly and unabashedly at Lance. Lance stared back a little less directly, refusing to meet his eyes.

Keith shifted closer, a hand settling on Lance’s thigh. Lance glanced away from the view of the forest he’d been admiring, back to where Keith was steadily shifting closer to him. Their eyes met and Lance knew what to expect even before he had started speaking. “Can I kiss you?”

There was a childish sort of naivety behind the question, like a part of Keith already somehow knew the answer, knew the odds, and was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge them all the same. It made Lance long to do the same, to act on impulse and get caught up in their own little world. He wanted desperately to believe the risk was worth it, but then he thought of Keith losing himself in the same way Lance had been forced to… and he just couldn’t go through with it.

No matter how badly he wanted to.

“Keith… we can’t.” Lance whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how this works, I don’t want to turn you accidentally.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry.” Lance breathed, hesitantly reaching up and cupping Keith’s face in his hands. His eyes stayed glued to the tips of his fingertips as they smoothed over Keith’s cheekbones, appreciating the chance to hold him but ever wary of the danger that came with it. They couldn’t live like this, it wouldn’t work out even if Lance agreed to try. Even if Lance never ended up turning him, it’d be a constant fear of when, the possibility too much to bear.

Lance dropped his hands back to his own lap, curling them into frustrated fists. “I know it doesn’t make it any easier, but I really wish we could.”

Keith looked up for the first time since Lance had told him no, a spark of hope returning to his eyes that Lance already wanted to shut down before it grew any bigger. There was no way, no chance in hell, he couldn’t take that risk. He wouldn’t.

“You like me?” Keith asked, soft and sweet, like he didn’t truly believe it. Lance laughed a little breathlessly, finding it overwhelming to be faced with such a cruel and twisted mockery of the confession he’d been waiting on his whole life.

“Of course I do.” Lance scoffed, like it wasn’t even a question. Keith shot him a confused look, as if to plead with him to explain why then they couldn’t act on their feelings. Lance sighed. “It’s not worth the risk to me. I know it might be to you, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hurt anyone else, especially you. Besides, I don’t even know how long I’m going to be here for.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about turning yourself in?” Keith asked, that inexperienced and floundering boy from before long gone. He shot Lance a glare, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing and didn’t actually want to. “Lance, you’re not like them. You’re not a monster.”

“I’ve done some pretty monstrous things, Keith.” Lance argued, getting to his feet. Keith trailed closely behind him, once again not allowing him to walk away from the topic.

“You didn’t choose to do them.”

“I still did them.” Lance snapped, bringing a hand to his forehead to rub at his temples. He felt a headache coming on, all the stress of the day wearing on his tired and hungry state. “There’s blood on my hands, Keith. You don’t just scrub that off in the sink and go on with your life. It’s killing me to know what I did to Nyma. I took everything away from her. You can’t even try to tell me that that’s okay, Keith.”

“I wonder if the person who took everything from you feels even a fraction of the guilt you’re feeling right now.” Keith muttered, his voice spiteful. Lance’s steps slowed to a stop, unsettled by the thought that that man might still be running loose on the streets, no conscious behind his actions. Lance gulped, looking pleadingly toward Keith. He didn’t want to think about this anymore, he was already so split on the decision it felt like two halves of himself were being ripped in different directions.

Keith sighed when he saw the look on Lance’s face, looking apologetic. He reached over and took Lance’s hand, mindful of his nails just like Lance had always taught him to be. “You’re not a monster, Lance. This guilt is how you know that. You’re a person just like I am, maybe even better than I am considering the lengths you’re willing to go to and the things you’re willing to give up to keep those you love safe.”

“I wish I’d never gone to that stupid party.” Lance whispered, his voice going increasingly higher with each word, as the panic and the anger set in heavy in his chest. He brought his hands up, rubbing them across his face with a loud sigh. “I’m such an idiot!”

“You didn’t know.” Keith told him, reaching up to gently pry his hands away from his face. “How could you have known? It isn’t your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is, Keith. None of that will change what happened to me.” Lance said, starting down the path again. He pulled Keith’s jacket tighter around himself, resisting the urge to cry when he was in such a public space. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t break down in front of Keith over this all over again. “I wanna go home.”

“I can do that.” Keith assured him, leading the way back to his bike.

The drive back to Lance’s apartment felt much longer this time around, the tension between them so heavy in the air Lance was starting to find it difficult to breathe around. Paired with the lump in his throat that constantly put pressure on him to start crying, it was a wonder he was holding it together at all.

He slid off the bike as soon as it came to a stop, ripping the helmet and jacket off and shoving them back into Keith’s hands. Keith was watching him worriedly, a deep frown on his face. “Lance?”

“Sorry, I’ll text you later, I just want to be alone right now.” Lance said hurriedly, in a rush to get the words out before his voice would inevitably break, before the self-pity party would start on its own accord and the tears would start flowing. He’d given up everything because of this stupid condition, now the universe was giving him things just to laugh at his misfortune as he gave them up too.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

“O-Okay.” Keith stuttered agreeably, clearly lost as to how to deal with Lance when he was in such a worked-up state. He let Lance leave, didn’t argue or say another word to him. Lance turned his back on him and jogged back to his apartment, unwilling to waste a second of the time he had left before the dam behind his eyes gave way. He had to get inside his own apartment before it happened.

He managed to, against all odds. He marched into the apartment and locked the door behind himself, then promptly slid down it to start sobbing. He hugged his knees to his chest, rocking gently back and forth, eyes frantically flickering around his apartment to try and distract himself from the ache of loss in his chest. His whole life felt so empty, like an apartment you were moving away from, void of any of the things that once made it feel like home.

He didn’t even know who he was anymore.

A few minutes later and he was about to peel himself off the floor to at least get into his bed, when a knock sounded at his door. He frantically scrubbed at his face with his nice shirt, cursing under his breath as he got makeup all over it. Defeated, he decided to just open the door despite his disheveled appearance.

He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Keith standing on the other side of the door.

“You forgot your-” Keith cut himself off, looking up from the floor for the first time and actually seeing the state Lance was in. Keith opened and closed his mouth, settling on a thin frown.

“Thanks.” Lance said, taking his wallet back from Keith’s hands. He tossed it haphazardly onto his apartment floor before turning back to Keith and forcing a smile so hard that it probably looked borderline manic. “Thanks for the wallet, thanks for tonight. It was nice. Sorry I’m making it all weird now, I didn’t mean to make it all about me. I know I-”

“Are you sure you wanna be alone right now?” Keith interrupted, wedging his foot into the doorway in case Lance’s response came in the form of a slammed door. If Lance had just a little bit more strength left in him he might have.

He was known to lash out when he was hurting, to shut people out by any means necessary to deal with things on his own. Especially lately, more-so than ever. He didn’t even have to bottle up his feelings and hide them, there was hardly anyone in his life anymore to notice.

Lance stared at Keith for a long moment, taking in the earnest look in his eyes. It’d been a long time since anyone had been able to look at Lance like that, no one ever knew the full of his story and decided to stay in spite of it all, but Keith was. Keith was here right now and offering to stay.

“No.” Lance whispered, shoving the door open just a little bit wider. He gulped, stumbling forward in the same instance Keith rushed to throw his arms open and catch him. “God, the last thing I want is to be alone, it’s just been so long since I’ve had any other option.”

“Let me stay with you tonight?” Keith asked, pulling back to swipe at the tear tracks covering Lance’s cheeks and shining wetly against his skin. Lance leaned into his touch, craving the closeness. “I won’t try anything, Lance. I just can’t leave you alone like this. I’ll go home at 3am or sleep on the floor, I don’t care. Will you please let me be there for you?”

“Yeah.” Lance breathed, eyes fluttering shut and basking in the feeling of Keith’s hands on him. “Okay.”

\--

“Lance! Open up! Last time you told us that visiting hours start at noon and no earlier, so we waited!”

The shout rang through the entire apartment, loud and proud. Keith groaned and rolled over, attempting to muffle the noise with a pillow over his head. In the process he ended up crushing one of Lance’s bony legs, which earned him a sharp kick to the stomach. He yelped, rolling away so quickly he ended up falling right out of the other side of the bed. He fell to the floor in a tangle of blankets.

“If you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’ll bust it down!”

Keith lifted his head out of the blankets, peering curiously toward the door as he registered the racket from outside had actually been words. It didn’t sound like it was coming from a neighboring apartment either, and the following repetitive rings of the doorbell only drove that fact home. Someone was at Lance’s door shouting all of these things.

Keith clambered back onto the bed, crawling over to where Lance was balancing on the opposite edge and threatening to fall off. Lance was still sound asleep, despite all of the yelling and noise. Keith chuckled to himself, beginning to poke and prod at Lance’s face until the other boy started to stir. He was half awake when the next shout sounded through the space, much louder than the last.

“Lance! Don’t make me come in there the hard way!”

“Oh, fuck.” Lance bolted upright, tumbling out of his side of the bed. He scrambled to his feet, pacing toward the door to the bedroom only to turn around and pace back into the bed. He buried his face in his hands, taking heavy steadying breaths.

“Lance? What’s going on?”

“My family’s outside.” Lance answered, his voice pained as he looked toward the door. Keith followed his gaze, remembering all of the things Lance had said about his family that first night they’d spent out in the woods together. They meant the world to him, but he said he’d been keeping his distance because of the zombieism. Apparently his distance was suddenly being shattered. “I can’t face them like this! I told them to keep their distance, I said I was drowning in homework, that I worked every day this week, why are they-”

“Hey, calm down.” Keith intervened, grabbing Lance’s flailing hands and gingerly placing them back at his sides. He placed his hands on Lance’s shoulders, keeping him in place. He had to come up with a solution and he had to do it fast. “You don’t have to answer the door!”

“You don’t ignore my mother when she comes knocking unless you have a death wish, Keith.” Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes like it should have been common knowledge. Keith groaned, running his hand through his messy bedhead.

“Come on, Lance! Your birthday was a week ago, we just want to celebrate with you!” The voice on the other side of the door was quieter now, less abrasive, it almost sounded pleading. Keith froze, turning to look at Lance with wide eyes.

“Your birthday was last week?”

“I celebrated with Hunk. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” Lance said hurriedly, eyes glued to the door like he really expected his family to kick their way into his bedroom at any moment. Upon seeing the hurt look Keith was giving him, Lance huffed a better explanation out. “It felt a little weird celebrating my life when I’m not alive anymore.”

“You are so!” Keith snapped, hands landing on his hips. That made up his mind. Maybe it was about time Lance got himself a reminder of just how much he still had in his life.

Keith turned and marched over to the dresser, his impulsive streak leading his decisions. He pulled on an outfit from Lance’s wardrobe and then turned toward the door. Lance followed a few steps after him before hesitating, realizing where he was headed. Keith didn’t look back, just walked straight up to the door and wrenched it open, prepared to deal with all of the consequences later.

“Took you long enough, you lazy-” The bitter grumbling cut off rather abruptly as soon as the door opened wide enough for them to see it wasn’t Lance on the other side. Keith looked between the small group, quickly coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t even Lance’s whole family visiting. Four people was way too small to be his whole family.

There was an older woman, presumably his mother? Then there was a girl a bit older than he and Lance, closer to Shiro’s age probably judging by the two young children clinging to her legs. A sister, maybe?

Either way, he could have recognized them as Lance’s family in a crowd of a hundred or more. The similarities were uncanny, from appearance to personality, already Keith was overwhelmed by the sensation that he was standing in a sea of people so similar to Lance.

“Mama, who’s that?” One of the kids asked, the younger boy who couldn’t have been much older than a couple years. He pointed up at Keith, a toothy grin on his face.

“I’m Keith.” Keith introduced himself, first to the baby and then to the others as he realized they would probably have more important places in the family. “Lance’s-”

“Boyfriend!” The little girl screeched, maybe five or six at the oldest.

She squeezed past Keith into the apartment and promptly began to climb over Lance’s couch, jumping on it and yelling all the while. Despite her best efforts to hold onto him, the younger boy got away from his mother’s hold as well and ran after his sister. They both jumped on the couch together, sing-shouting all the while. “Uncle Lance has a boyfriend! They live together! Uncle Lance has a boyfriend!”

“I do not!” Lance squawked, stumbling out into the living room wearing a loose sleep shirt and a pair of boxers. In an instant, he seemed to realize his mistake. Both kids set their eyes on him and refused to look away, mischievous smiles dawning on both of their faces. They ran toward Lance at break-neck speeds, launching at him and clinging to his legs like animals. Lance laughed, doing his best to kick them off, very obviously avoiding using his hands.

“Your lack of clothes makes a poor argument, little brother.” The younger woman snickered, stepping into the apartment. Keith stepped aside, making room for Lance’s mother to follow suit.

“Uncle Lance! We missed you!” The little girl giggled, hanging upside down on one of his legs. Keith watched them interact, noting the small smile present on Lance’s face, like he was trying to hold himself back and failing. Good.

“It’s nice to meet you, Keith.” Keith turned to the source of the voice, freezing a bit when he saw Lance’s mother standing right next to him. He gulped, holding up his hand to shake hers.

“Thank-you, Mrs. McClain.”

“Call me Rosa, please.” She laughed, shaking her head like he was ludicrous for trying to be so formal in the first place. She turned to Lance though, throwing an arm around Keith’s shoulders like they were lifelong friends rather than two people who had only just introduced themselves. She grinned over at Lance, pointing to Keith. “He’s so well-mannered, sweetie.”

“Mama, we’re not-” Lance started to explain, only to screech like a dying animal when the kids somehow managed to knock him off his feet. He fell to the ground and the attacked him, tugging at his hair and ears.

“I wondered where you’ve been these past few months, I should have known.” Rosa chuckled, clapping Keith on the back. Lance somehow managed to get to his feet, with the help of his sister prying her children off of him. He scurried over to where Keith and his mother were standing, like he didn’t trust them alone together.

She smiled as he approached, opening her arms. He walked into the hug willingly, though his eyes cried a silent plea for help as they met with Keith’s over her shoulder. “My little loverboy finally found someone capable of holding his attention and you haven’t been able to focus on anything else since, huh?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Go get dressed, we won’t scare him off in the five minutes we’re left alone with him.” Lance’s sister said, walking over to stand by them. Lance seemed to hesitate as he backed out of the hug, looking between the other three adults with a concerned gaze. Finally he settled on Keith, exhaling only when Keith held up a pair of encouraging thumbs-up.

“Fine.” Lance agreed reluctantly, walking backward toward his room again. He pointed between his family members one by one. “Kids, don’t cling to him. Veronica, don’t make fun of his hair. Mom, don’t ask him questions about his future plans.”

Lance left the room and the exact moment his bedroom door clicked shut, the kids were off of the couch and across the room to where Keith stood. He hardly had time to brace himself before they were mauling him like wild animals.

“Keef!” The little boy shouted, grinning up at him and making grabby hand motions. Keith reluctantly bent over to pick him up, calling on his very limited knowledge of how toddlers work to make sure he didn’t just immediately drop the kid back onto his head.

“Lance fell for a guy with a mullet.” Veronica laughed wickedly, very purposely speaking loud enough for Lance to hear her in the room over. Keith frowned, wondering if his hair style really looked like a mullet after how long he’d gone without getting it cut.

“Veronica, you heard what he said.” Rosa chastised her, shaking her head. She then immediately stepped closer to Keith, whispering quiet enough that Lance definitely _couldn’t_ hear. “So? Do you want kids? How many? Lance wants at least five, has he told you that yet?”

“Uh, we haven’t really talked about it yet.” Keith decided that was about as neutral of an answer as it came.

“I see, I see.” She nodded thoughtfully, leaning even closer. “But between you and me? Does five sound good?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t been around kids much if I’m being honest.” Keith laughed, admitting this at the exact same moment the little boy in his arms decided to start blowing raspberries in his face. Keith winced, thankful when Veronica stepped forward to take the baby from his hands. After wiping his face off, Keith turned back to Lance’s mother and gave his most determined smile. “I’m open to anything that’d make Lance happy though.”

“Aw.” Veronica cooed, waving at her face to dry tears that just weren’t there. Keith blushed, wondering if maybe that’d been too cheesy of a thing to say, considering the reality of their situation. If Lance came out now and admitted that they weren’t really together, things were gonna get awkward fast.

“Perfect.” Rosa grinned, turning to watch just as Lance walked back into the room. “We’ve decided to keep him, Lance!”

“Great.” He grumbled, walking over to stand beside Keith, practically pressed to his side in search of some reassurance. Keith wrapped an arm around his waist. “Don’t know what I’d do if you decided to kick him to the curb.”

They looked over Lance’s outfit then, all of their smiles quickly fading to frowns as they recognized the button-up from his pizza boy uniform. Rosa sighed long and hard.

“You work today?”

“Yes, in about ten minutes.” Lance informed them, checking his phone for the time. All of his family members let out matching Lance-like groans of disappointment, ever dramatic. “I warned you guys! I picked up a lot of shifts recently, I’m working constantly.”

He rushed to the kitchen then, slipping out of Keith’s hold and going about gathering a lunch for himself. Keith walked clumsily after him, a little in over his head when it came to dealing with this many family members. His own adopted family had all been adults by the time he was brought into the picture, kids were a whole new ballpark for him. He hadn’t been around kids since he was one.

“You can’t take a day off?” Veronica asked, leaning on his counter. Lance shoved her elbows out of his workspace and quickly prepared a sandwich.

“Nope.”

“Then we’ll just have to hang-out here today.” Veronica said decisively, looking around the apartment with a mischievous glint in her eyes very similar to the one her kids wore. Lance glared at her.

“I don’t trust you alone here, you’ll snoop.”

“Keith will keep us company.” Veronica responded easily, walking over and propping an elbow up on Keith’s head. Curse this damn family of tall people. “He won’t let me get into any trouble.”

“ _Mama_.” Lance whined, looking pleadingly toward his mother. She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders.

“I mean, we can’t force him to stay, but if he _wants to_ …”

“No way.” Lance insisted, stomping his foot against the kitchen floor. He looked to be on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Keith slipped out from under Veronica’s arm, slipping around to the other side of the kitchen island to hover nearer to Lance. “Our relationship is way too new for me to trust you alone with him for that long.”

“Come on, Lance, it’ll be fine.” Keith said gently, eyes darting around the room. To their credit, Lance’s family members at least looked surprised that Keith was agreeing to their plan. Lance looked downright flabbergasted, gaping at Keith like he’d just admitted to murder. Keith laughed, unsurprised when Lance grabbed him by the ear and turned them both around, their backs facing his family.

Keith leaned in close, whispering his case. “They missed you. I can see how much they care about you and how much it’s hurt them not knowing what’s going on with you.”

“I know, but I’m not ready to let them into this part of my life yet.”

“Don’t worry, they won’t find out anything you don’t want them to. I’ll make sure of it and I’ll still be here when you get back.” Keith promised. Lance eyed him warily, like he didn’t believe it was possible for this part of his life to work anymore. “We can face them together. I know you missed them too.”

“Okay.” Lance agreed, the anxiety still present in his expression even as he relented. Keith grinned, reaching down and squeezing his hand. They turned around together then, not at all surprised to see the way Lance’s family were staring at them, no doubt trying to eavesdrop. “Okay, Keith is gonna stay with you guys today.”

“ _Really_?” Veronica laughed, eyes widening in shock. Rosa looked similarly taken aback, but she coughed and did her best to play it off.

“Good choice, Lance.” She walked around the kitchen island, pulling Lance into another bone-crushing hug and not letting go this time. He grumbled, face smushed into her chest. “We won’t do anything to scare him off, promise.”

“Depends on your definition of weird.” Veronica muttered, smirking to herself. Lance sighed, forlornly looking toward Keith, still caught in his mother’s hold.

“You asked for this, you hear me? Don’t forget that.” Lance told him, shaking his head. He squirmed against his mother then, attempting to break free of the hug. “I’ve gotta go, Mama, I’m already running late.”

“It just feels like forever since I’ve seen you, I don’t want to let you go at all!” She cried out, squeezing him tighter. Lance wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. Keith watched with a smile on his face, undeniably fond of their antics. It was nice seeing Lance look so comfortable with people, despite everything going on right now he could tell how close they’d always been. “Never go that long without talking to me ever again, you hear me?”

“I hear you.” Lance agreed, prying his way out of her arms as carefully as he could. He extracted himself, then immediately grabbed onto the sleeve of Keith’s shirt. “Keith? Can I maybe talk to you for a second? Alone?”

“Yeah, of course.” Keith agreed, willingly being dragged out of the apartment and into the hall outside of it. They turned to face each other as soon as the door was closed behind them, leaning on either side of the door frame respectively. “What’s up?”

“You’re sure you’re okay with this? Being alone with them all day? They’re a lot to handle.” Lance explained, his expression knowing. Keith laughed, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

“I like them.” He announced, not a trace of dishonesty present in his voice. He really did like them, oddly enough. They weren’t anything like the kind of people he normally got along with and gravitated toward, but he couldn’t deny the homey feeling that he got just by being around them.

“Are you just saying that because they’re most definitely eavesdropping through the door?” Lance asked him, voice dropping lower. Keith chuckled, grabbing Lance and hauling him a few steps away from the door for good measure. He leaned in close, speaking in a whisper.

“No, really, I mean it. They’re like you, but more intense.” Keith explained, grinning all the while at the thought of how they interacted. He reached up, fixing Lance’s hair into something that looked slightly more presentable. “It’s how I imagine you were before all of this happened.”

Lance looked at him with a strange disbelieving smile, chuckling a few times before finally surging forward and pulling him into a hug. Keith wrapped his arms tightly around the other boy, taking the opportunity to hold him for what it was.

“Thank-you for being there for me last night and today. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here with me through this.” Lance whispered, nuzzling his face into the crook of Keith’s neck. Keith held his breath, afraid that if he so much as breathed too hard that the moment would shatter. Lance pulled back a few seconds later and Keith panicked, his hands darting to Lance’s face and pulling him closer again.

Lance’s voice was a strict warning when he realized how close their faces were getting. “Keith.”

“I know.” Keith sighed, bringing their foreheads together. His hands framed either side of Lance’s face, mapping the line of his jaw. “No kissing. Just let me have this.”

Lance left after that, with a lot more hesitation and reluctance than he’d shown before. In the end Keith had to swat at him until he left down the hallway, though he kept turning around to look back at Keith until he finally stumbled his way into the elevator. Keith couldn’t help but laugh at what a sucker Lance was for physical contact, that was all it took to win him over.

Surprisingly enough, the day passed by rather painlessly compared to the worst case scenarios Keith had undoubtedly been imagining. They talked about Lance as a child, about their home back in Varadero Beach, they even did their best to help Keith understand Lance’s family tree so he’d know what was going on when Lance talked about them. They played a few board games as the day grew long, each child going down for a nap one by one.

“Is anyone else worried?” Rosa asked, urgency seeping into her voice. “He should have called by now.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Mama.” Veronica insisted, trying and failing to reassure her for what was probably the tenth time since the game had started. She leaned in close, biting her lip as she carefully drew a block from the shaking tower. She turned back to Rosa then, holding up the block proudly. “You know Lance, he gets distracted easily.”

“He said he was picking up some things for dinner after work, but it shouldn’t take this long.” Rosa sighed, tapping her foot against the floor as she walked back and forth across the room. It’d been ten hours since Lance had left, which was longer than any shift a pizza place was going to give out. “You’ve read about the animal attacks around here, haven’t you, Keith?”

“I have.” Keith said stiffly, coughing into his fist.

“Oh, I hope my boy has the common sense not to walk down alleyways alone.” Rosa worried aloud, walking over to the window and looking out over the parking lot below. Keith attempted to remove a block from the tower, but his shaking hands did nothing in his favor and he ended up knocking the whole thing over. Veronica shouted loudly in victory, but Keith was unbothered.

Instead he stood and walked over to join Rosa, quickly checking the place where Lance usually parked. It was odd that he wasn’t back yet, he’d always told Keith that since turning into a zombie he went to and from his house as quickly as possible. Keith had tried calling and texting his cell a few times throughout the day to no avail. Maybe he’d stopped to eat?

“I can call his boss, see if he’s left there yet.” Keith suggested, eager to do something. He didn’t like the feeling of sitting around waiting on outside factors. He wanted to help figure out what was going on, even though it was likely nothing. If Lance were here he’d be making fun of him for worrying so much over nothing, surely.

“You’re so helpful, Keith.” Rosa grinned kindly, reaching over to squeeze Keith’s shoulder. “You’re worried about him too, aren’t you?”

“I’m always worried about him.” Keith sighed, scrubbing his hand across his face. Rosa chuckled, giving a sympathetic nod.

“That’s the easiest way to tell that you care, at least.” She suggested, giving him an approving smile. He excused himself to Lance’s bedroom then, hurrying to call the pizza place up and try to get some answers. He hoped they’d know what was going on.

“Hello, you’ve reached Altea Pizza, this is Hunk speaking. What can I do for you?”

“Hey, is Lance there?” Keith asked, trying not to sound as worried as he felt. He didn’t want Lance to find out how much he’d freaked out over nothing if it really turned out to be no big deal.

“Nope, he left an hour or two ago.”

“What?” Keith whispered, settling on the edge of Lance’s bed. “Did he say where he was going?”

“Didn’t have to, his friends picked him up and let us know they were going out for drinks.”

“What friends?”

“Oh, I didn’t know them.” Hunk explained, the sound of something sizzling on the stove filtering through the speakers. Hunk paused, seeming to think on it. “Lance said they were cool though, I wasn’t worried. Why? What’s wrong? Was he supposed to call you again?”

“Not exactly.” Keith sighed, wondering just how many friends Shiro had told about Keith’s mini meltdown over a boy not calling him. He quickly ended the call and walked back into the room with Lance’s family, grinning at them. “Hey, I got ahold of him. He’s fine, just having difficulty making decisions at the grocery store. I’m gonna meet up with him and hurry him back home, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine, Keith.” Rosa said quickly, rising to her feet and following him to the door. She handed him his coat, somehow knowing that the leather one belonged to him and not Lance. “We’ll see you back for dinner though, won’t we?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

\--

Keith stormed into the pizza place not fifteen minutes later, paying no regard to the fact it was busy hour whatsoever. He shoved his way through the crowds and the lineups, right up to the counter where he actually shoved the person ordering out of the way. Hunk gaped at him in total horror.

“Keith? What are y-”

“Has Lance come back yet?” Keith asked, ignoring the line up of customers angrily muttering behind him for cutting in line. Hunk frowned, looking at Keith quizzically. “It’s really important. I _need_ to talk to him.”

“No, he said he would be out until late…” Hunk mumbled, tapping his fingers against the counter. He looked around the room worriedly. “Is everything alright, Keith?”

“No.” Keith answered without hesitation, deciding he was past the point of trying to play it cool. There was something that just felt really off about this whole situation and if coming clean about that much could get him help then he’d do what he had to. “I think he’s in danger.”

“What?” Keith blinked, realizing that voice definitely wasn’t Hunk’s at all. He turned, finding Pidge sitting of one of the benches lining the counter. She was staring at Keith with intrigued worry written across her face, no doubt eager to know all the gritty details. Keith walked past her toward the back of the building, ignoring the employees only sign he passed.

He walked into what must have been the employee break room, furrowing his eyebrows together when he found Allura and Matt sitting back there eating a meal together. He cleared his throat pointedly.

“Keith, what are you-” Pidge was saying behind him, storming after him in a hurry. She paused when she walked into the room and saw the scene before them, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Are you two _on a date_?” Pidge asked, gaping at the two of them. Matt was growing redder by the second and Allura was floundering to clean up all of the dirty dishes from things they’d already eaten like that’d somehow hide the evidence.

“A date? Who? Us?” Matt laughed hysterically, at something that wasn’t at all funny. God, was this the level of oblivious and lovestruck that Keith was when it came to Lance?

“W-What? God, no, not while I’m at work.” Allura dismissed hurriedly, turning to face Keith and Pidge then with a hard look. “What are you two doing back here? You know this section of the building is only for-”

“Keith just stormed in here saying that Lance was in danger, I had to follow.” Pidge explained, gesturing vaguely to Keith. Allura stepped closer, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Keith, what’s wrong with Lance? We can help.”

“He got involved with some real bad people, I think it caught up to him.” Keith said, gesturing vaguely toward the part of the employees only section he hadn’t seen yet. “Do you have a security camera outside? Maybe we could get a glimpse at the people that picked him up? A license plate or something?”

“Yeah, we’ll check.” Allura agreed, leading the rest of them into a small room in the back filled with outdated screens and similar technology. She settled in front of one of the dinosaur computers and quickly pulled up their security system, sorting through the cameras and dialing them back a couple hours. Sure enough, they eventually found a few frames with Lance in them.

He walked out of the building with a large smile on his face, but it faded the moment he was outside and the men on either side of him stepped closer to grip his arms. Lance didn’t struggle, but he certainly didn’t look thrilled to be going along with them. They led him into the back of a black SUV, however the license plate was inconveniently out of shot.

Keith reached over Allura and rewinded the footage back to the moment they’d gotten the best view of Lance’s capturers. Leaning over Allura’s chair in the way he was, he felt it when she shivered at the sight of the men on screen. He glanced down at her.

“Allura, do you know them?”

“I know who they are, yes.” Allura sighed, sounding not at all happy about the fact that she did. Keith kneeled next to her pleadingly, begging he with his eyes to fill him in on the information he didn’t know just yet. Allura sighed, getting to her feet and gesturing for him to following, warding off Pidge and Matt when they attempted to come with.

Allura led Keith into a single-stall employee bathroom and locked the door behind them. “Keith… how much do you know about those people?”

“How much do _you_ know?” Keith challenged, leaning in close to her and narrowing his eyes. There wasn’t a lot of room between them to begin with, but Keith wasn’t about to back down in the face of obtaining more information about those people. Allura stared at him for a long moment, looking contemplative.

“Guys, don’t leave us out of this! We’re worried too!” Pidge shouted, banging her fist against the door angrily. Keith and Allura both turned to the door, then looked back at each other. Allura took a deep breath, beginning to repeat herself.

“What do y-” Keith cut her off, clamping a hand over her mouth and whispering close enough to her that Pidge wouldn’t be able to overhear on the other side of the door.

“They’re zombies. Evil ones. The ones that monitor the morgue and turn people into monsters like them.” Keith explained hurriedly, deciding he couldn’t waste time trying to guess what Allura did or didn’t know. If she had valuable information she’d best give it up to him sooner rather than later.

She pulled away from him, staring in awe.

“How do you know all of this? _Are you_?”

“No.” Keith dismissed hurriedly, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he prepared to admit a secret that was hardly his to tell. But if it helped bring Lance home safe then he’d do what he had to. “Lance is.”

“Oh, God. I had no idea.” Allura muttered to herself, her hurt and fear displayed across her face. She shook her head, clearly trying to break herself out of the shock. “Do you know when?”

“He said he got turned at a house party, a few months ago.” Keith explained bluntly, eager to get to the point so he could get on with rescuing Lance. Allura was taking her time processing though, counting the weeks back on her hands by the looks of it, trying to pinpoint when exactly Lance had been turned.

Keith blinked, a realization hitting him. “You’re one too, aren’t you?”

Allura stared at him for a long moment before nodding, her eyes downcast.

“I tried to convince him to stay home that night, I really did.” Allura recalled, leaning back against the wall for support. “I _knew_ they were going to be there, I just didn’t know it was going to get crazy like that. I made him promise to come home early, and he did! He swore up and down that he was fine, that nothing was wrong with him, I was stupid enough to believe him.”

“Allura, that doesn’t matter right now. It’s not your fault.” Keith explained urgently, grabbing her arm and tugging on it to bring her focus back to the problem at hand. “Lance killed another zombie to protect me. I think they found out about it. What are they gonna do to him?”

“We might still have time to get to them.” Allura muttered urgently, her expression concentrated.

“Do you know where they are?”

“I have an idea.” Allura explained, pushing open the bathroom door and leading the way out of it. Keith stayed close on her heels, eager to get to Lance. She explained herself as they walked toward the back exit of the building, her words coming out jumbled and rushed, but coherent. “They propositioned me to join them at one point, I rejected them. The leader told me to go to the abandoned barn on the far side of town if I ever changed my mind.”

“Guys?” Pidge called, just as they were halfway out the door. Keith turned back, looking pleadingly at Pidge’s confused and dejected expression. He understood her concern, how she probably wanted nothing more than to be involved, but there was no time now. “ _Oh no_ , you’re not walking out that door without letting us know what’s going on.”

“Pidge!” Allura hissed out suddenly, anger seething in her tone. Her eyes flashed red just for a split second, but a quick glance in Pidge’s direction confirmed that she’d noticed it. Keith gulped, looking between them. Allura relaxed slightly, regret flashing in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Pidge, but we don’t have time to spare.”

“Just answer one quick question? It’s a yes or no.” Pidge asked, stumbling after them out into the alleyway. Allura looked back at her, lifting an eyebrow. “Is it zombies or not?”

“It’s zombies!” Keith yelled back, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness. Pidge whooped and hollered behind him, a series of “ _I knew it_!” shouts following their departure. They didn’t look back though, they ran all the way to where Allura had parked her vehicle and then clambered right into it.

Despite being known for going fast and being a speed demon, the way Keith drove was nothing compared to the utter terror that was Allura on the road on a mission. She sped the entire way there, going speeds so dangerous Keith was sure she’d end up crashing before they ever reached their destination. She assured him that she knew what she was doing though, so he believed her.

They made it there in one piece, without so much as a scratch on the car.

There being an abandoned building that looked to be on the verge of collapsing, alone in the middle of a field. Allura parked a good distance away, eyeing the building thoughtfully. Keith watched her expression shifting, counting the second ticking by that they were wasting sitting there.

“This is the place. Now we should think about how we’re going to-” Allura started to explain, but Keith had already counted sixty seconds wasted and that was sixty seconds too many in his opinion. He was out of the car like a bolt, running as fast as his legs could carry him, straight into the fray with nothing but a pocket knife to defend himself.

He ran into the building without even bothering to scout out the area, knowing already what he’d see if he looked. Walking into the building only confirmed that, rows and rows of people (zombies) turning to look at him like an angry mob. He was determined not to let his fear keep him from going any further.

“Lance!” Keith shouted, holding up his knife toward anyone that looked his way. They all laughed it off, like he was a mouse attempting to pick fights with a lion. They didn’t attempt to touch him, but the crowds did mould around him to subtly lead him toward the back of the building, herding him like a sheep to the slaughter.

He ran ahead, stopping when he nearly ran into the one zombie standing alone in the center of the clearing that’d been made for him. The man stared down at him, a towering mass of a person.

“Oh, who do we have here?”

“We didn’t even have to catch him, Sir.” One of the other zombies cackled wildly, like it was the best joke he’d told all year. “He ran right in!”

“Aren’t you brave?” The zombie crooned, his clawed fingertip settling below Keith’s chin and propping it up, enough to apply pressure without breaking skin as long as Keith cooperated. He did, tilting his head back until he could look the man in the eye, and then even further. His gaze fell on the balcony overhead then, where he could see Lance staring back at him.

Keith’s adrenaline kicked in and he hauled his fist back, punching forward so suddenly that he actually managed to drive it straight into the zombie’s nose. The man recoiled, yelping in pain. In an instant, the surrounding zombies surged forward behind Keith and bound his arms behind his back. Keith kicked and thrashed at first, before remembering Lance’s warning that so much as a scratch from their nails would turn him.

He went willingly then, holding his chin high as he was forced to kneel in front of the stranger he’d just socked in the nose. The zombie scoffed at him. “Maybe bravery was too kind, it seems it was just stupidity.”

With that, the other zombies helped Keith back to his feet and led him up a flight of stairs. He was halfway there when he realized where they were going, at which point he nearly ran ahead of his captors. They laughed at him like he was a clueless idiot, but he knew what he was there for. There was no standing in his way now that he was so close.

He ran to where Lance was tied to a chair, both his arms and legs restrained. His pizza boy uniform was ripped in multiple places, freshly scarred flesh visible beneath the rips. His head hung between his shoulders and for a terrifying moment Keith feared that he might be dead, but he held on to his composure until the goons had left him tied to a nearby post. At which point, he promptly began to try and urge Lance to wake up.

“Lance.” Keith whispered harshly, shuffling as close as his bonds would allow to the other boy. Lance lifted his head, blinking tiredly as he stirred from his state of unconsciousness. His eyes came into focus a moment later, widening as he registered what exactly he was looking at.

“Keith, _what are you doing here_?” Lance all but growled, like he was really attempting to lecture Keith at a time like this. Keith ignored the hostility in Lance’s tone and leaned closer, managing to rest his head on Lance’s thigh. He drew a deep breath, eyes closing.

“I couldn’t just let them have you.”

“Well, now they have both of us, so I don’t know that this outcome is any better.” Lance grumbled, but he was relaxing under Keith, his will to fight growing weaker. Keith lifted his head, blinking up at Lance and smiling. Lance sighed, struggling against his bonds, fighting the urge to reach out and draw Keith closer by the looks of it. “I never would have wished this fate on you in a million years, and it’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” Keith argued immediately, shaking his head. “You had no say in any of this.”

“They’ll eat you alive, Keith. They won’t even have the decency to kill you first.” Lance snapped, red seeping into his irises as he gazed out off the balcony, down at the army of brainless zombies below. He seemed to recognize the harshness in his tone a moment later, blue eyes flickering back to Keith’s filled with a sad sense of apology. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Keith responded, hands curling into fists behind his back. He followed Lance’s attention back to the animals below, growling and snarling and fighting amongst themselves. To think that Lance thought of himself as a monster when people like that were around.

Keith looked back to Lance, his belief only solidified that Lance was a good person. He didn’t even wait for Lance’s eyes to find his again, just blurted his thoughts the second they occurred to him. “I love you.”

“Keith, you can’t say that.” Lance gasped, squeezing his eyes shut like he couldn’t bear to look at Keith and think about the confession.

“Why not? What if we die here tonight? I’m just supposed to go to the grave pretending I don’t feel that way about you?” Keith challenged, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t care about the risks or the consequences, I want to be with you. Even if it’s only for the next few hours.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Humor me?” Keith laughed wetly, smiling up at Lance despite the circumstances. Lance looked around the room, biting his lip in deep thought. Then he turned back to Keith, fondness written across his features.

“Fuck it.” Lance said, inching his foot closer to nudge it against Keith’s knee. They gazed into each other’s eyes, uncaring of their surroundings for just one moment. Lance felt a fullness in his chest like he never had before, a fierce hope stronger than any he’d allow himself to feel in months. “I love you too.”

Keith was about to respond, to perhaps make a joke to try and lighten the mood, underplay the weight of his heavy emotions and the risk of the situation they were in. He didn’t get a chance to get a word out though, not before the big barn doors on the front of the building were wrenched open with a loud screech. Something flew in through them, a something that promptly turned into a small explosion right where the bulk of the zombies had been standing.

Keith and Lance coughed at the smoke in the air, trying in vain to see through the it to the doors. It took a good minute for it to begin to clear, and by then so much had happened that they had to piece and patch the scene before them together. The entire barn was littered with soldiers, dressed in entirely black and toting varying weapons.

“Go, go, go!” One of the generals shouted, leading the charge of fifty or more men. Keith sat bolt upright, watching the scene play out as zombie after zombie fell to the ground, bullets scattering across the room in a spray. He felt it when realization hit Lance, the way he tensed and started to tremble. Keith’s heart felt like it’d lodged somewhere in his throat.

“Lance, it’s okay, we’re gonna get out of here.” Keith assured him hurriedly, straining against the rope to get closer to Lance. He was shaking his head, refusing to hear a word Keith was saying.

“ _You’re_ gonna get out of here, I’m not.” Lance whispered, curling in on himself to the best of his ability.

“Don’t think like that, we’ll find a way.” Keith insisted, despite how bleak things were starting to look. The zombies were falling like flies, meaning the soldiers grew closer and closer to the balcony with each passing second. They wouldn’t even look twice at Lance as soon as they realized what he was, he was no different than the rest of them in their eyes.

Keith curled his hands into fists, angrily sneering at the first soldier to climb the steps up to where they were. Ahead of the rest of the crowd, it would only be a matter of time before the others followed this soldier up and Keith couldn’t take on any of them with his restraints.

The soldier ran up to them, a gun in hands and pointed toward them. Right up until the moment he got close enough to make out their faces behind his mask, at which point his gun slowly lowered. He reached up instead, slowly removing his mask and protective goggles.

“Shiro?!” Keith whispered urgently, eyes widening in a mixture of relief and horror. Shiro seemed to be in a very similar state, minus the relief and add in a lot more horror. Apparently he hadn’t been expecting to find his baby brother in a place like this.

Shiro kneeled beside them, digging out his knife and frantically cutting them loose. Keith looked over his shoulder at his brother, demanding answers. “Who are these people?”

“Members of the Galaxy Garrison.” Shiro answered simply, tossing the rope aside once they were both loose. Lance and Keith got to their feet, allowing Shiro to lead them back into a corner as far away from prying eyes as he could get.

“I thought they dropped you?” Keith asked, looking up at his brother in disbelief. Shiro shook his head, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed him up onto the balcony yet.

“No, I was undercover trying to track down as many of these things as I could.” Shiro explained, holding up his gun as if to reiterate his point. “The Garrison has known about the zombies since they started. A professor in our ranks went awol and created them. It’s up to the soldiers to round them back up.”

“We need to get out of here.” Keith said decisively, turning and grabbing Lance’s wrist. He attempted to pull him toward a nearby open window, deciding he’d take his chances with jumping out of that over facing all these soldiers. But as he stepped away and attempted to drag Lance with him, Lance didn’t follow.

Keith looked back at him, eyebrows furrowing together. Shiro had stepped closer to Lance and was holding up some kind of device at him, no doubt something the Garrison Tech had come up with to tell whether someone was a zombie or not. Keith gasped, stepping closer and slapping the device out of his brother’s hands.

Shiro looked up at him, eyes wide as he looked Lance over now that he knew the truth. Keith whined, urgency slipping into his tone. “Shiro.”

“I’m loyal to the cause, Keith, I can’t-” Shiro started to rattle on, eyes darting to the stairs where another soldier was starting to walk toward them. Keith stepped closer, hands settling on Shiro’s wrists and holding them, pleading with him. Shiro held up his hand to signal to the other soldier that help wasn’t needed, they promptly turned around.

Looking back to Keith, his lips were drawn into a tight frown. Lance was pressed into Keith’s side, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

“You’re _not_ hurting Lance.”

“Keith.” Shiro groaned, his voice strained. He looked to Lance, guilt written all over his face, like he’d already made up his mind and acted on his choice. Keith frowned, knowing how difficult it was to talk Shiro out of something when he was certain it was the right thing to do. “I can’t just _let him go_.”

“He’s not like them.” Keith insisted, tugging on Lance’s sleeve as if to encourage him to stand up for himself. Lance didn’t say a word, just kept looking at Shiro with those wide, fear-filled eyes. His nightmares playing out in front of his eyes.

“I believe you.” Shiro told Keith, reaching out to muss up his hair. His other hand tightened its grip on his gun. He lifted it, eyes darting to Keith’s filled with a sadness he couldn’t quite comprehend. “I can’t make exceptions, not for anyone, it’s too risky.”

Keith blinked up at his brother in hurt and confusion, tears building in his eyes as he maneuvered himself to stand between him and Lance. He reached behind himself, grappling for Lance’s hand and holding onto it. Shiro drew a long pained breath, resigned to the fact he’d have to physically pry Keith away if he wanted to complete his mission.

“You can’t make exceptions?” Keith asked, low and bitter, as Shiro latched onto his elbow and attempted to throw him aside. Keith took the opportunity for what it was and snatched the knife from Shiro’s belt, immediately slicing it across his palm.

Shiro’s grip went slack in his shock and Keith yanked away from him, finding Lance’s hand again and digging the other boy’s nails directly into the cut. He winced, but he held his ground and he held Lance’s hand there stubbornly even as Lance realized what was happening and attempted to wrench away from him. “You won’t make an exception for him, but what about me?”

“Keith!” Shiro whisper-shouted, visible outrage on his face. Keith glared up at him defiantly, finally dropping Lance’s hand and deeming it too late to turn back. Judging by the way Shiro was looking at him, a mixture of exasperation and hurt and disgust, he’d reached the same conclusion. Keith was one of them now.

“Keith, no.” Lance’s choked little whimper was the only thing that drew Keith out of his determined state, his eyes darting to Lance’s panicked blue ones. Keith stepped closer to him apologetically grabbing his hand and weaving their fingers together. Lance would understand later, surely, Keith was only doing what he had to. Whether the risk was worth it or not to Lance, it was Keith’s life. Or rather, lack of life.

Shiro looked between them, eyes falling on their joined hands. He sighed, low and long, like it’d been weighing on him this whole time and had only just reached the point of unbearable. He reached out, smacking Keith upside the head with enough force to sting a little bit.

“Stubborn little shit.” Shiro growled, annoyance present in his tone more than it had been in years. Keith smirked up at him, a little grin worming its way across his lips as he realized he’d most certainly gotten his way, even if Shiro hadn’t admitted it to himself just yet.

Shiro herded them down the stairs and toward a broken board in the wall, trying to block them from sight as he urged them through the small space. “Come on, they’re gonna wanna look you over if I tell them you’re human. They don’t want this to keep spreading, if they notice the scratch you’re gone.”

“So?” Keith asked, looking hopefully up at Shiro. He rolled his eyes, shoving Keith toward the gap with enough force to know he was still very much upset.

“So… you’d better get running.”

“Thank-you, Shiro.” Keith exclaimed, stumbling forward and hugging his brother quickly. Shiro shoved him away, pointing toward their escape route and reminding him just how limited their time was. Keith squeezed Lance’s hand in his encouragingly, and led the way out into the field.

They ran across it, ducking into the tallest grass whenever they’d hear another gunshot behind them, not daring to speak a word or breathe a breath too deep until they were back to safety. They stayed tense right up until they made it over the ridge to where Allura had parked. Keith breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he saw she was still there.

He started down the hill, only to freeze when Lance didn’t move with him. He glanced back, eyebrows drawn tight with worry. Lance was looking at the ground, his bottom lip trembling.

“Keith.” He whispered, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t want you to live like this. You know how much I hate the way I am, why would you willingly-”

“What other options did I have? They would have killed you.” Keith scoffed, tugging Lance the extra few steps down the hill into a more sheltered area. He faced him, reaching up to run his hands over Lance’s cheekbones. “Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Not all bad? Keith you have to eat people for the rest of your existence, what part of that-”

“Well, now I can do _this_ ,” Keith cut him off, gripping Lance’s jaw tighter and drawing him in close. He pecked his lips against Lance’s, pulling back and winking cheekily at Lance’s awed expression, “without fear. So I’m failing to see the downside.”

“You’re an idiot.” Lance breathed, shaking his head ruefully. He was grinning now too, the giddiness and relief in the air beginning to seep into both of their systems. Lance stumbled closer, gripping the front of Keith’s shirt as they met each other halfway for another kiss.

“You don’t have to be alone with this anymore.” Keith whispered, pressing his lips to every part of Lance’s face that he’d yet to claim with his mouth. Lance groaned, playfully swatting him away. “Allura is like us too.”

“What?” Lance asked, hand freezing where it’d been in the air. Keith reached up and grabbed it, bringing it down to his lips to kiss each of Lance’s torn up knuckles.

“For even longer than you.” Keith explained quietly, nodding his head toward her car. Lance followed his gaze, a sense of calmness falling over his face. “We’re gonna figure it out. We’ll find a cure.”

“How?!” Lance argued, but he was laughing now, like he was amused by the sheer amount of certainty Keith was holding onto. Keith knew there was no promise that they’d really be able to find a cure, it was probably a lot easier said than done if the Garrison hadn’t even attempted to make one, but he wasn’t going to let it discourage him. He’d seen what had happened when Lance lost hope, so he was just going to have to be hopeful enough for the both of them.

Besides, he’d meant what he’d said. He could think of worse things to be than stuck with Lance for the foreseeable future.

“Pidge will help.” Keith explained, looking up to watch as Allura pulled over to pick them up. He smiled as she waved them into the car, clearly eager to get them to safety. Keith hesitated though, glancing back at Lance with a confident nod of his head. “I know you think you’re taking my life away from me or something, but that’s not how I see it at all. I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it so I took matters into my own hands. I don’t regret it.”

“You know, that’s the part that kills me,” Lance mumbled, cheeks blushing pink, “I don’t regret it either. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats on making it to the end and I hope you liked it! I loved writing this as I'm a complete sucker for supernatural things and I'm only just getting the confidence to start writing them. So if this fic was your kinda thing, consider tuning in for similar works in the future. I'll link my socials below if you're interested.
> 
> Also consider checking out the klance reverse bang, who knows, maybe you'll wanna join for next year! 
> 
> melancholymango.tumblr.com
> 
> https://twitter.com/MelancholyMango
> 
> https://klancereversebang.tumblr.com
> 
> Leave some tasty comments to fuel the fires of my undying desire for praise.


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